


Lovesick

by girlskylark



Series: Nymph Lance Vs The World [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura and Lance are Siblings, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Kiss, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hanahaki Disease, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Keith and Shiro are prisoners of war, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Love Confessions, M/M, Nymph Lance, Pining Lance (Voltron), Prisoner of War, Romantic Fluff, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, Vomiting, empress allura - Freeform, hanahaki, hanahaki disease au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlskylark/pseuds/girlskylark
Summary: After Keith and Shiro are taken hostage for their father's loyalty to Empress Allura... a lot of bizarre things start to conspire. They are forced to live as guests in the royal palace, and are subjected to the affectionate stares of Allura's brother, Lance. If that wasn't weird enough, Lance's nymphal genes start to wreck havoc on his life. Lance had always been prone to falling in and out of love, but he hadnever crashed so hard. His daily reveries are filled with thoughts of Keith, the youngest son of Zarkon who was known for being The Most Beautiful Man Alive. The nymph in Lance wants nothing more than to fall in love with and be loved by Keith Kogane, but there's no way he can do that, especially when his nymphal genes start to backfire.Lance becomes legitimately lovesick, and the only cure is to confess his love, and have it returned. But how can he do that when even his illusions of Keith are telling him not to?





	1. { dragon's tongue }

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to test out my more poetic voice, and so BEHOLD! Nymph Lance appears!

“I would like to reiterate—you will _not_ be treated as prisoners. As long as you are with us, you will serve as our guests.”

Keith had difficulty believing anyone these days, and it didn’t come as a surprise considering his current _position_. He felt like his hands were tied behind his back, but that just wasn’t the literal case. His heritage might have had something to do with what made him so invaluable, but his brother was in the same boat as him. At least he wasn’t going through partial-disownment on his own.

Shiro had a better sense of his emotions than Keith did, which only served to make Keith feel immature for feeling so vulnerable. Shiro was more of a worldly guy than Keith was—he traveled a lot in his adolescence before returning home to learn their father’s trade, all while Keith was stuck with the short stick. Youngest in line for the now-nonexistent throne. It meant that Keith spent less time at home, and more time living elsewhere, closer to the garrison where his general lived. He spent all his time there learning things that didn’t interest him one bit. The more he learned, the less he cared for it. 

“I can’t believe Father sold us off like that,” Keith huffed under his breath. One of the Empress’s respected hands was ahead of them, chatting about the architecture. Shiro seemed interested up until the point Keith spoke—Keith wouldn’t have been surprised if Shiro _was_ actually interested in this.

“He didn’t _sell us_ ,” he insisted, crossing his arms as they turned the corner of a set of pristine white pillars.

“Do you really expect to see him again?” Keith remarked quietly, raising an eyebrow at his brother as the girl ahead of them went on and on talking about the garden they stood on the brink of. It was dark out, as they could all see through the glass that domed over their heads. The framework of the ceiling windows crossed shadows over the exotic plants, and trapped in the heat like a greenhouse. Keith could feel the collar of his shirt suffocating him.

“Of course I do—since he agreed to the Empress’s terms, he’s required to visit bi-yearly for in-person briefings—”

“Ah, yes, we get to see Father _twice a year_. Whoop-di-doo,” Keith said sarcastically, twirling his finger around in the air before crossing his arms. “Couldn’t he have given her… I don’t know, _the family dog?_ ”

Shiro gave him a flat look, opening his mouth to reply when the girl raised her voice to ask a question, “Would you two prefer that we finish the tour in the morning? It _is_ rather late.”

“That… seems like a good idea,” Shiro agreed, glancing up at the moon overhead as Keith rolled his eyes.

As the girl showed them to their separate rooms, Keith figured he wouldn’t even _be here_ had the Empress not threatened their Father with a forceful swear to allegiance. She started her reign with threats that turned into violence, that turned into pleas for mercy, so now there really wasn’t any reservation when she poised the question: “Do you pledge your loyalty to me, or would you rather die?”

Some instances were more delicate than others—her feud with Keith and Shiro’s country started with war, and turned into a “peaceful alliance,” with the main stars being Keith and Shiro as hostages for their Father’s loyalty. So long as their Father remained loyal to the Queen, no harm would come to them, and eventually, they might even get to go home.

Keith was sure he had the worst luck ever.

When the girl showed them to their rooms, she ended with opening Shiro’s door and saying, “If you need anything, the guards shouldn’t be too far away.”

“I should hope not,” Shiro laughed, taking a look around the room. Keith was just next door, and he _knew_ the moment the girl left, Keith would be hammering on his door for more questions and explanations. “And… if I need to ask for you specifically?” he inquired.

“Then you can ask for Pidge. If you have any questions for Empress Allura, you can send them through me,” she said with a brilliant smile before turning and heading out into the hallway.

She didn’t make it very far before she was turning a corner, and ramming straight into the bane of her existence.

Pidge yelped, clasping a hand over her mouth as she squeaked, “ _Lance!_ Stop sneaking up on me like that!”

“Why? Sneaking is in my blood.”

“No it isn’t! That doesn’t even make any sense,” she cried, slapping him in the arm as she turned and stormed around him. He only backtracked and blocked her path. When she turned to the side, he cornered her into the wall with a cheeky grin. “ _Lance!_ I have to report to your sister—”

“Aw, aren’t I important?” he whined, grinning as she clenched her fists. Her anger boiled up and turned her cheeks red. “I was wondering what you know about Zarkon’s son.”

“Which one,” she bit out between clenched teeth. “In case you couldn’t see with your _shit vision_ , there’s two of them here.”

“The, uh, the younger one. Closer in age, good in combat, beautiful black mane…”

“Seems like you know enough to me,” she hissed. “Now out of my way.”

She shoved him so hard he lost his balance. She took off at a near-jog, trying not to worry the guards in the process. Still, Lance caught up to her—damn his long legs. The fact that she was in heeled boots didn’t exactly help her pace either. If she took off running, he’d be able to follow the sound of her heels for a mile.

He trailed along beside her and said, “What’s your impression of him?”

“Snarky, rude, and _not thrilled about this_. Don’t make it harder on him,” she hissed.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t make it better?” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. He retained some of his composure back with a slight frown, which only made Pidge regret having said anything.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as they passed the garden. She was always so thrilled to show their guests the garden, but it didn’t help that the youngest son of Zarkon equated his visiting privileges with imprisonment.

“Look, Lance—I know Keith has a reputation, but can you just go easy on the guy? It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t take too kindly to Empress Allura, so it’s likely that she’ll have guards on him constantly. The last thing he needs is you nagging him trying to get into his pants,” she said.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll be _so_ easy on the guy,” Lance said with a flourish of his hands, which just ended in Pidge groaning in her hands for him to shut up.

Keith’s reputation was _exactly_ why he wanted this so much more than Pidge apparently did. He heard so many rumors about Emperor Zarkon’s youngest son that he had been thrilled to see the man for himself. And _fuck_ , did Keith live up to the expectations or _what?_ Lance had never fallen so hopelessly for someone in his entire life, which was really saying something considering who his best friend was. Hunk was _quite_ the specimen, but Lance was more than positive that Keith’s taste in men was far more favorable than Hunk’s, considering Hunk was as straight as they came.

When it came to talking to Lance’s sister, he decided to accompany Pidge as they climbed the steps up to her wing of the palace. It was far from where the guests stayed, and heavily guarded at the entrance where they were met with gold-detailed tiles and wall borders, chandeliers and expensive, handmade tapestries. He always loved his sister’s quarters, and didn’t mind lounging in one of her floor pillows while Pidge sat at the tea table with Allura.

Lance perked up at every mention of Keith, but overall, he zoned out and stared at the ceiling. There were a few problems with Lance being who he was, and it was more or less entirely dependent on his heritage, or lack-thereof.

Allura inherited their mother’s position earlier than anyone expected, and it was all due to Lance’s birth being the main complication. Their mother’s pregnancy was unexpected and strenuous, and with Allura’s biological father five years deceased, Lance had no parents. It was a blessing, really, because Allura’s newfound power gave her the ability to absolve Lance of his illegitimacy. It wasn’t long before he started showing signs of who his father could have been, and now there was no question. Allura’s mother had fallen in love with a nymph, and that was that.

There were some difficult aspects to being part-nymph, though, and Lance couldn’t ignore them. Nymphs were notorious daydreamers, with imaginations that ran wild before he could stop them. His memory was impeccable because of it—every experience he had was vivid and brilliant, full of color and opportunity that was hard for him to ignore, let alone forget. It was one thing for Keith’s reputation as The Most Beautiful Man to strike an average human’s heart, but a completely different scenario for a nymph like Lance to experience Keith’s beauty in person.

Seeing Keith had given Lance new purpose. The excitement hit Lance hard in the chest and turned his heart into a gooey mess that seeped across all parts of his body. The sticky sweetness of Lance’s abrupt love had him smiling sleepily in one of Allura’s floor pillows, thinking only of Keith, and how they would spend the evening out on the oceanside. Lance would pick a dragon’s tongue flower and tuck it into Keith’s hair, and the image was so violently real that Lance could feel the violet petals touch his bare chest where he held a bouquet of them and…

“Lance, are you all right?” Allura’s voice broke through his reveries.

“Hm?” he hummed, his attention bleary, like he had just woken from a long, satisfying nap.

“Are you daydreaming again?” she asked, a smile on her lips. She had her hair tied back, so Lance could see the gleam of her golden earrings that curved along the entirity of her earlobe. They pointed at the ends, highlighting the elvish ears they both got from their mother. “Come on. Up, up,” she said, tugging him by the arm until he sat up.

He blinked away the image of Keith, and the flowers that were caught in the hand he held to his chest. They vanished, but he could still feel them resting on his skin.

“Pidge,” Allura said, calling her assistant over. “Will you take Lance to his chambers?”

Pidge obliged with a courteous bow, dismissing Allura from her sisterly duties. As Allura walked off to prepare for bed, Pidge helped Lance up and dusted him off, effectively banishing the imaginations. “Your head is so full of fluff these days,” she commented as Lance sighed, chest tight with emotion.

“I don’t know why,” he confessed, brow tensing as they left through the closest open door. Allura’s room had six large sets of doors—half facing the third story balcony, and the other half facing the corridor which Pidge and Lance left through. The instant they leave, the guards simultaneously closed the doors, shutting out all visitors from Allura’s personal chambers.

Lance looked back at the closed doors and sighed as Pidge took him by the arm and guided him ahead. Every time he saw his sister, his mind swarmed with memories of her smiles that faded with the years of arduous stress. When her advisor pulled her farther and farther from childhood, Lance cherished their moments together. Unlike most children, he could remember the days he was young and vulnerable, and would hold the hand Allura used to feed him snacks when he couldn’t do so himself.

Lately, she was all wistful grins instead of genuine smiles, like the thought of actually showing happiness was just a memory now.

  


. . .

  


The day Keith first noticed Lance, his brain said to him, _What is_ this _fool trying to do?_

Keith and Shiro weren’t exactly high enough on Empress Allura’s radar to warrant daily meetings and conversations. But, as new guests to palace, they were invited to the first feast where Keith was more or less subjected to the doe-eyed stares of the boy sitting next to the Empress. They weren’t exactly close to one another—there were plenty of people in between Keith and _that_ end of the table—but still, Keith could feel the man’s eyes on him as if they were sat right next to each other, and Keith could see his neighbor’s face turning to him in the corner of his eye…

“Who’s that guy down there?” Keith asked Shiro, and relayed to him the location based on where the Empress was sitting.

“Oh, Lance? He’s Empress Allura’s only brother,” he said quietly, attempting to be discrete as he looked over at Lance. Thankfully, though, the man didn’t seem to notice Shiro at all. He was too busy staring at Keith. “Seems like he’s taken a liking to you.”

“Are you sure he isn’t just staring at me because I have something on my face?” Keith whispered.

“Yeah, _your perfect eyes_ ,” Shiro teased, and Keith nudged him in the arm. “I’m _kidding_. Gods, no, you don’t have anything on your face. And I’m guessing you just didn’t notice him yesterday when we were meeting with Empress Allura—he was staring at you then, too.”

“He wasn’t there,” Keith snorted, popping a bit of chicken into his mouth.

“Whatever you say…” Shiro said, and was then lured into a conversation with the person across the table from them.

The table was filled with all languages from the countries nested within the Empire. Keith knew several on his own, but hearing them all at once was overwhelming. He hardly _liked_ talking to people to begin with, even in his own native tongue. Catching Lance staring at him was _definitely_ a breather from listening to Shiro switch languages at the snap of a finger.

So Keith humored Lance. He caught Lance’s eye again, and held it as he raised his chopsticks to his mouth and ate another piece of chicken. The action brought a smile to the man’s face, suddenly flustered as he looked down at his own plate and decided to take a bite of his meal in spite of Keith’s eyes on him. Dinner went on like this, and it amused Keith to no end that he was able to survive the meal just by having a staring contest with the Empress’s brother.

The meal was over once the Empress and her entourage were dismissed through the back room. Keith took a moment to breathe, and turned to his brother, only to find Shiro grinning at him suggestively.

“Stop that,” Keith huffed.

“Stop what?”

“You’re being weird. I don’t like it,” he said, turning away as the servants began dismissing them from their places. He stood up with Shiro and started ahead. If they walked together, Keith _knew_ that he would only be teased for this-or-that and Keith _really_ didn’t want to hear it.

  


. . .

  


There were plenty of things they still didn’t understand about nymphs. Nymphs were elusive by nature, while at the same time, social creatures who formed passionate bonds with people like Lance did with everyone in his life. There were theories that nymphs were one of the few species to have a definitive soulmate, but even then it was hard to decide considering… certain aspects to a nymph’s psychology.

For example: pureblooded nymphs tended to… _kill_ potential mates using whatever element they had on hand. There were plenty of records of this happening—men and women being found suffocated by vines, strangled and drowned in rivers, turned to stone. Sculptures were once believed to be the deceased mates to nymphs, forever captured by their last pose.

But Lance wasn’t pureblooded, which meant his affections showed in other ways. He went through phases with Hunk—in and out of weeks where Lance would unknowingly court Hunk with extravagant meals and presents that just seemed natural at the time. At least, until Lance came to a day after the phase ended, and realized how much of an idiot he was for putting Hunk through that.

“It’s okay—I really don’t mind. I think it’s really sweet,” Hunk would reassure him with a dismissive wave of his hands, but Lance would wallow in misery until another fanciful thought entered his mind and dragged him out of his depression.

But Lance’s heart never felt like this before.

It ached longingly at every sighting he had of Keith. The night he spent dinner staring into Keith’s eyes, he laid awake, dreaming with his eyes open of Keith’s eyes closer than ever. Keith would lean over him on the bed, bare-chested with a hand laying over Lance’s heart. “Your mind is full of fluff again,” he’d whisper.

“I don’t know what to do—I’m so in love with you,” Lance would say, his breath escaping him as Keith laid flower after flower over Lance’s bare chest, where their hands would brush and Lance would hold the bouquet like it was his funeral guise.

Keith shushed him as soon as love was mentioned. “You can never tell me—I could never understand the way you feel.”

Because Lance never truly slept, not with Keith sitting over him all night, he grew tired in the daytime. He fell asleep wherever he could, and when he wasn’t sleeping, he was daydreaming of dragon’s tongue and violet eyes drenched in that gooey red stuff his heart oozed. This went on for days. It only started to fade when recalling the memory of Keith staring at him over dinner started to become routine. It was still as vibrant as ever, but Lance was so used to seeing Keith sitting at the end of every table that he started to expect the fantasies.

“He’s lovesick,” Pidge informed Allura one day over breakfast. “That’s my only explanation.”

“Do nymphs _get_ lovesick?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

Lance raised an eyebrow at her and said, “You know as well as I do.”

“Then I suppose that’s nothing at all,” Allura huffed, perching her chin on her hand as she leaned over the table to look at Pidge. “I always knew nymphs were romantics, but never like… _this_.”

“We know more about purebloods than we do about… whatever Lance is,” Pidge told her. “I imagine it’s different for halfbloods, considering Lance hasn’t strangled the poor boy yet.”

“Hey! I would never,” Lance whined. “Why do you keep insisting that I’ll ruin this!”

“Because you will,” Pidge said. “You fall harder than anyone I ever know. It’ll take time for Keith to even _warm up to you_. You’re already planning the rest of your life with him.”

Lance was about to argue that, but his fantasies reeled his reservations back in. “Yeah… you’re right about that I guess,” he sighed, looking to his sister.

“Just don’t let your… lovesickness cloud your judgement,” Allura said. “My guards still consider Keith to be a possible threat.”

“He’s just gloomy because this isn’t his home yet,” Pidge told her. “He’s passed the dangerous stage.”

“Still… I trust my guards over this more than I do you,” she said, pursing her lips as she sat back and looked out over the balcony railing. The air smelled of sea salt and warm, summer air. Lance breathed it in as Allura did the same, and the action brought them both back to each other, sheepish grins on their lips. “Just be careful, Lance,” she said.

“I have no intention of doing anything with this,” Lance insisted, shaking his head. “It’s just—It’s just a crush. I’m sure it will pass.”

It didn’t pass.

  


. . .

  


  


The next day, Lance bumped into Keith in the gardens, and the cycle started over again. The worst part: They talked.

Lance wasn’t daydreaming when he ran into Keith—he rarely daydreamed when he was around Hunk. Still, it didn’t stop him from squeaking in alarm when they turned the corner, and walked straight into the path of the one and only Keith, son of Zarkon, The Most Beautiful Man Alive. Keith’s hair was tied up in a bun, and it did weird things to Lance’s heart that he never knew were possible.

“Oh! Sorry, we didn’t mean to disturb your walk,” Hunk said, covering for the fact that Lance was struggling to breathe suddenly. His chest felt impossibly tight, and he clutched at his shirt where his heart hammered against his ribcage.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Keith said, and Lance thought he might just keel over and die. Even his _voice_ was pretty. It was low and smooth, and was music to Lance’s ears. “I… don’t think I’ve ever properly introduced myself—to either of you. Keith Kogane.”

He reached a hand to Hunk first, and Lance’s attention was gone the second Keith finished talking. It wasn’t until Keith brought his hand over to Lance that he snapped back into reality. “Lance. Brother to Empress Allura.”

“I know—we, uh, saw each other at the feast last week,” Keith said, retracting his hand into a vague gesture before saying, “I should leave you two to it then. Sorry for bothering your walk.”

“Not at all! Come talk to us any time,” Hunk offered, and they watched Keith walk off through the heat of the garden that Pidge loved so much.

The instant Keith was gone, Lance dissolved into a mess of distraught nerves, all in a flourish of groaning and swooning and falling on the path at Hunk’s feet as he exclaimed, “I’m an absolute _fool!_ A fool! I thought I was going to faint the second I saw him!”

“I have to say—this is _very_ amusing,” Hunk confessed.

“I’m serious!” Lance whined, sitting up with his hands holding him up from behind. “I swore my heart was about to fling itself out of my mouth. His hair was in a _ponytail!_ A _ponytail!_ ”

Hunk reached down for Lance, and hefted him back onto his feet. He dusted off Lance’s shoulders as he said, “You should have told him he looked nice.”

“I couldn’t. That’s a death sentence for sure,” Lance laughed, waving his hand in front of his face as if the _idea_ smelled bad.

“Why? You did just confessing your undying love for me that one time,” Hunk said. “It was flattering—I’m sure Keith would be flattered, and he’s probably more receptive to the idea than you give him credit for.”

“I don’t care—It’d be humiliating. And Keith couldn’t possibly think the same way as I do about this,” he insisted, crossing his arms with a firm shake of his head. Confessing his love for Keith would surely be the death of him—all of his fantasies of Keith said as much. And while his semi-hallucinations weren’t exactly the best counselors… he trusted them more than Hunk.

Lance could never run after Keith like Hunk wanted. The idea was forbidden due to his reveries of this fantastical, unreal version of Keith.

He delved into another phase of lovesickness, as Pidge took to calling it, and the effect was so profound that he legitimately became ill. The violent stomach bug alarmed his sister and Pidge—it occurred after he realized that he didn’t have an appetite anymore. He felt bloated at every meal and couldn’t eat more than a bite. Afterwards, he would be in and out of hiccups and burps on the verge of vomiting, and when he did at last succumb to vomiting, Pidge ran to Allura in alarm.

“I don’t know what we can do—Lance’s physician isn’t in the country this time of year,” Allura confessed worriedly, tapping a finger to her ear as she paced across the length of her study. She was accompanied by Pidge, who was busy wracking through her memory for anyone else that could help Lance.

Physicians were a common occurrence, but physicians who specialized in treating nymphs were nearly as rare as the nymphs themselves. Lance had the same doctor since he was young and hadn’t seen anyone else since, but the fact that the man’s family lived elsewhere made scheduling difficult. He never had extreme circumstances to worry about until now, so they were always able to plan ahead.

“Coran can search for another,” Pidge offered, gesturing to where Allura’s advisor was walking in through the balcony door.

“What am I doing?” Coran asked, alarmed. He rested a hand over his chest as Allura relayed the issue, and insisted that they needed to find another physician who treated nymphs. “Are you certain this is because of Lance’s heritage?”

“I don’t—” Allura started, but Pidge jumped in, exclaiming, “Yes! It has to be—he’s been.. _lovesick_ for _weeks_ now.”

“It _could_ just be a case of the stomach flu,” Allura said.

“It could _also_ be something more severe than that,” she insisted, clasping her hands behind her back. “Lance has been acting strange ever since the Zarkon boys came here. You can’t deny that his imagination has been running _wild_ since. He’s been in and out of daydreams ever since!”

“He was doing fine the other day when I saw him,” Coran insisted.

“I don’t know what it is,” Pidge said, “but if he doesn’t see Zarkon’s youngest son—Keith—for several days, he gets better, but then he spirals right back into it after seeing him again. It should be getting better, but his guard came to me this morning saying he was puking and hallucinating the entire night and his guard didn’t know what to do. Allura’s nurse tried giving Lance medication, but he won’t take anything.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Of Keith. You know how he is sometimes—remembering people and such—but this is… _way_ more severe than we’ve ever seen,” Pidge explained with a shake of her head. Her distress was clear in the tension of her brow, and how she wrung her hands in front of her.

“I’ll see what I can do about finding Lance a proper replacement doctor,” Coran said. “In the meantime—try what you can to settle his stomach.”

“I’ll try,” Pidge promised. “I’ve been going through my research since I heard the news.”

“Good. And, Empress, try not to worry over Lance too much. In the case that it’s contagious, it’d be best if you stayed away from him until this is over,” he said to Allura, who nearly argued back before realizing that Coran was right in his concern. The last thing they needed was Allura coming down with the _stomach flu_.

While Coran went in search of a doctor, Pidge hurriedly pulled her stack of books off of Allura’s desk and dismissed herself in preparation for coming up with another concoction with Allura’s nurse. They met at the medicinal greenhouse where they assessed Lance’s symptoms and combatted them with the plants they had on hand. The Empress’s medicinal greenhouse stored a wide variety of exotic plants known to cure a wide range of aliments. It was, perhaps, the most extensive collection the world had ever known, and the greenhouse itself spanned across the rooftop of the entire palace where it wasn’t obstructed by the gardens that spotted the hallways here and there. From afar, the palace was composed of sturdy, reflective glass that made it glow day and night form the horizon.

The nurse, Florona, came running to Pidge from across the greenhouse, exclaiming, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it—this should help with the hallucinations.”

Pidge plucked the stem from Florona’s hand and squinted at the bizarre violet flower. It was accented with soft cream colors and striped red and orange petals, but mainly, its focal color was a vibrant, rich purple. “Dragon’s tongue?” Pidge said, and Florona nodded. “What does it do? I’ve never heard of it being used for medicinal purposes.”

“I’ve seen it grown in households with children—it’s safe to eat and calms a person’s mind. It’s known to temporarily erase overactive imaginations. My mum used to give it to me if we had company over and I was too energetic for the occasion,” she explained with a nervous smile as Pidge narrowed her eyes at the flower.

“Lance would never take this,” she sighed. “But… he doesn’t have to know it’s in there. Tea?”

“Yes, that would be best,” Florona agreed, and together, they conspired to end Lance’s hallucinations and hopefully push back the stomach flu with a touch of ginger.

Pidge was charged with delivering the tea, and she stopped herself outside of Lance’s door, tea tray in hand, and made eye contact with the guards standing out there with her. They silently gave her the best of their luck before opening the door. She steeled herself with a deep inhale, and passed the threshold, into the darkness where Lance was being fondly taken care of by Hunk.

Hunk looked up from where he was about to dump out a bucket of vomit into the toilet—across the entire room and through a set of doors. He peered out, though, at the sound of the door opening, and sighed in relief when he realized it was Pidge. “Oh thank _gods_. I was so worried wondering where you were.”

“Sorry—Florona and I were just brainstorming on what to do. Coran’s off looking for a replacement doctor for Lance.”

“Re—placement?” Lance hiccuped miserably from the bed. He was half-slouched off of it, clutching to the end table as a shudder went through him. His sheets were stained with sweat, and his face was such a pallid white that he had Pidge grimacing before she even got close enough to see the vomit sloshing in his bucket.

“Yeah, sorry—it’s the best we can manage with your physician off in Thayserix,” she confessed, hastily nudging the tray of tea onto the tabletop nearest Lance. “Florona and I made you some ginger tea to help settle your stomach.”

“N-No—I can’t,” he said, waving his hand. “I can’t eat anything—”

“It’s just tea, Lance. Please?” she said, pouting her lips as she knelt in front of him. She didn’t her best to ignore the smell of vomit, and shook a rag free from her pocket to wipe Lance’s mouth. He took the rag, sitting up a little as he threw his hands down and glared at her. It was a feeble attempt at hostility, so he eventually caved and accepted the cup.

He managed down a few sips and a gulp before shaking his head, clasping a hand over his mouth. “I can’t do any more. Please, Pidge, don’t make me…”

“It doesn’t even taste that bad,” she said. “You _love_ ginger tea.”

“It’s not the taste I- I- I sw _ear—_ ” His words turned all garbled, eyes tearing up as he reached frantically for the bucket. Hunk was coming over with a fresh one, so Pidge grabbed it and thrust it into Lance’s hands just as he started dry heaving and retching, coughing like he had the worst damn cold in the world. Pidge could tell something was clogging his esophagus, so she stood up and pushed him forward, patting him _hard_ on the back until it came loose.

Something _not liquid_ came dropping out of Lance’s mouth. His cheeks were stuffed with it until he spat them all out, groaning at the taste. He leaned over and coughed more, stomach convulsing and turning up more and more of the soggy, damp _flower petals_.

“Since when were you eating _flowers?_ ” Hunk asked as Lance calmed down at last, resting a hand over his chest. Tears were running down his face as he gasped for air.

“I—never _ate_ flowers,” he spat at Hunk. “ _Gods_. I do feel a bit better now, though.”

Pidge squinted at the bucket, taking it from Lance as he used Pidge’s rag to clean his mouth. Pidge took the rag after him and used it to pick up one of the petals and investigate it’s… purple… color… _Shit_. “These are dragon’s tongue petals,” she said, looking wide-eyed at Hunk, who shrugged.

“I don’t… know what that means. Don’t you use that to pacify children?” he asked.

“Coran used to give me dragon’s tongue when I was little,” Lance said in a disgusted voice, sticking his tongue out in distaste. “They look pretty, though.”

“That’s because you were ridiculous as a child,” Hunk accused, arms crossed. Lance shrugged, running a hand through his sweaty hair with a sigh. He couldn’t deny Hunk’s truths.

“This has _got_ to be one of your weird nymph things,” Pidge accused, and Lance turned away with a pout on his lips. His gaze just happened to fall on Keith, though, who sat beside him on the bed with his index finger pressed to his soft, beautiful lips.

Ever since Lance was a child, he could tell the difference between reality and fantasy, but even still it didn’t stop him from loving that the ceiling was filled with stars when really, it was just stone. He liked the idea of living in a world were such things were possible, and so he entertained his fantasies without fully believing in them. When Pidge and Hunk left him to his illusions, he welcomed the company Keith gave him before Allura’s nurse came back with a crew of servants preparing to clean and wash his bed sheets.

While Lance’s heart muddled all over again at the thought of Keith, Pidge and Hunk hurried to consult the many books they had on nymphs. Allura started collecting them ever since Lance was born and started showing symptoms of being half-nymph. They had every possible resource at the tips of their fingers, and so they started hunting through the recorded illnesses nymphs contracted that had a little something to do with excess romanticism.

That was where Coran found them in the morning, burrowed in books. Hunk had fallen asleep on one of the window sill cushions, and leapt awake at the sound of Coran announcing, “I’ve found someone who could help!”

Pidge stood up from the table as Hunk fell on the floor with a shout. He scrambled up, and in his sleepy daze, he saluted the man who’s stepped out from behind Coran, hands clasped in front of him.

“Pidge, Hunk, this is Thace. He was just visiting in the area, but we’ve commissioned him to help Lance. I’m sure Thace will do everything he can to heal him.”

Thace smiled amiably, but Pidge could already tell just _where_ this man came from. “Don’t you think it’s a _coincidence_ that he’s Galran?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Coran.

Coran scratched the back of his head, trying and failing to say anything before Thace defended himself, hardly insulted by Pidge’s suspicions. “I know it’s a strange background for someone who has a history of treating nymphs, but all of my schooling was in Thayserix. Nymph biology was a requirement while I was there, and it’s come in handy,” he explained.

He had the same dark hair and sculpted features that Shiro and Keith had, and while Pidge didn’t know many Galrans to begin with, she found herself wondering if they _all_ looked this beautiful. Seeing people like Thace, Shiro, and Keith around the palace was certainly putting the staff into a tizzy trying to contain the breaths they lost at the sight of them.

“Has there been any development with the Prince’s state?” he asked then, startling Pidge back into motion.

“More or less,” she confessed, grimacing as she pulled a book over.

Hunk stepped forward and explained, “He’s been… _coughing up flowers_. Florona—our nurse—has been keeping an eye on him all night, and it’s started to calm down.”

Pidge was about to show Thace an article on dragon’s tongue when she noticed how his pale complexion turned even paler. “Flowers?” he repeated, clasping a hand to his neck. He reached it up over his face and dragged it down with a sigh. “How long?”

“How long has he been throwing up?”

“How long has he been _in love_ ,” he reiterated.

“Two weeks,” both Pidge and Hunk said, and looked to Coran, whose eyes were wide as he watched Thace think through the dilemma.

“And he’s halfblood?” Thace asked, and with the confirmation of all three of them in the room, his decision was final. “Purebloods instinctively kill the people they love, but with halfbloods, it’s a bit more complicated than that. There’s not much _on_ halfbloods, but I’ve seen a few cases in Galra halfbloods before. The instincts more or less _backfire_.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Pidge said, eyes wide. “You mean—he’s killing himself?”

“Unintentionally,” Thace said, as if that would reassure them at all. “And with cases I’ve seen—we call it hanahaki, as it’s become a common trade among halfbloods I know—it _can_ be fatal if left untreated. The only cure is for a confession—the person Lance loves has to love him back.”

“Oh,” Hunk hummed, sharing a look with Pidge. “I… don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, if I’m completely honest.”

“I doubt Keith would confess his love out of pity,” Pidge huffed.

“He’s also still a threat—he could use this weakness as a way to negotiate with Empress Allura,” Coran said. “As in, he won’t help us unless the Empress agrees to certain terms.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Pidge huffed.

“It’s… not that simple,” Thace interrupted. He paced back towards the center of the room, tapping a finger to his chin. “Regardless of whether or not this… _Keith_ agrees to love Lance, this entire time Lance’s mind is convincing him that Keith could never love him at all. Which means he will continue to suffer unless he can come to terms with loving Keith as a reality and not a fantasy.”

“So… convincing Lance to confess his undying love for Keith?” Hunk reiterated, and Thace nodded his head. “Oh. I mean, he’s done it plenty of times to me _and_ other people. But something is so different about Keith. He’s never contracted hanahaki before with me.”

“There’s no rhyme or reason to it, as far as I can tell,” Thace confessed. “Though, of the two cases I was involved with, both ended up married and happy when all was said and done.”

“Two cases?” Pidge said, jaw dropping. “This is all based on _two cases—!_ ”

“Pidge,” Coran sighed.

“No! This is bullshit, we can’t—How do we know any of what you said is surefire?” she demanded. “We are entrusting the life of the Empress’s _brother_ with someone who’s only seen this thing _twice_.”

“To be fair, both of them are alive now. Right Thace?” Hunk said, and Thace nodded. “See? I’d say that’s a success. Two-for-two.”

“Hunk, be realistic. This is your best friend we’re talking about,” Pidge sighed, scuffing her foot on the wood flooring. “And if Lance dies under _my_ supervision, guess who’s getting fired and likely hung to death.” She jabbed a thumb at her chest before flinging her hands up exasperatedly. “A lot at stake, in case you couldn’t tell!”

They lapsed into silence. None of them could deny the strict way Empress Allura controlled her people. Someone with that much power _had to_. It was commendable and just, and effective, though it still didn’t stop her closest advisors, friends, and servants from worrying about the state of their necks. Coran rubbed at his own neck in worry, and ended the silence with a loud sigh and clapped his hands together, startling them all.

“Right! So Thace, I suppose I should show you to Lance so you can decide for yourself what our next action is,” he said, and though they all knew what needed to be done, Allura wouldn’t accept anything less than a formal confirmation.

Later that day, when Lance met Thace, Thace laid the flat metal surface of his stethoscope to Lance’s chest and his upper and lower back. Lance tugged his shirt back down after Thace leant back with a relieved sigh. “Good news?” Lance asked.

“Well, better than what I was expecting. As long as the roots stay in your stomach, you should be fine. But we can expect that this will happen again in time—which means that your stomach will cleanse itself by vomiting the flowers.”

“And… worse case scenario then?” Coran asked from the side, leaning over to inspect Lance closely. Lance leant away, and raised an eyebrow at Thace.

“Worse case scenario would mean that the illness takes root in your other systems. This seems to be a usual case, and I’ve only ever caught it as far as affecting the respiratory system. If the roots extend to your lungs… you will likely suffocate to death,” Thace warned, a pitiful look on his face as he watched Lance worry over the thought. With his vivid imagination, he could already start to feel the tendrils sinking in and staking their claim on his life.

“And… what’s the cure?” he asked quietly. “Since you haven’t said it, it can’t be fun. Surgery?”

Thace hesitated, and Lance was already mentally preparing himself for it. He never had to go through surgery before, but… if he had to do it, he would.

“Surgery isn’t recommended. And I am no surgeon,” Thace confessed with a wave of his hands. He settled back in his chair, sharing a look with Coran. Lance watched his sister’s advisor nod his head in encouragement. “Ultimately… the cause of all of this is your love for Keith. The only way to resolve this would be to… speak with him about this. See if you all could come together on good terms and hopefully… establish a romantic bond with him.”

The instant Keith’s name was dragged into the equation, Lance could already feel himself drifting away, curling in on himself as his head grew lighter and lighter. Coran said his name, but he just waved a hand at Coran, and tried to shake off Thace when he insisted Lance lay back. He was so woozy that even that much was enough to cause him to faint.

  


. . .

  


“I seriously _cannot_ face Keith. That’s just… _impossible!_ _Gods_ , every time I see him I lose control,” Lance cried out from the bathroom as he showered later that next day. He hadn’t thrown up in several hours and was feeling better—if not hungry, now that his stomach was no longer filled with all the fluff Pidge always claimed was stuck in his head.

“You’ve honestly confessed your love for me on seven different occasions. _Seven!_ ” Hunk said, leaning back against the wall beside Lance’s bathroom door. A tapestry was hung there, cushioning his head as he tipped it back against the stone bricks.

“That- That is totally different! Don’t bring that into this!” Lance complained as he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower for a towel. He scrubbed it over his face and hair before reaching over the sink to clear the fog out of the bathroom mirror. He rubbed the water out of his pointed ears and ducked down to dry off the rest of his body as Hunk started talking again.

“Okay, fine, but I’m just saying that I always thought you were being super genuine, and if what you’re saying is that you never _were_ genuine—”

“I totally was!”

“—then I don’t see why confessing to Keith is any different if they were all genuine love confessions,” he finished, and Lance stood up with a groan and grabbed the nearest robe folded up on the wooden stool nearby. He pulled it on and tied the sash.

“You’re a natural improvisor though,” his friend insisted as Lance eventually left the bathroom. Hunk stepped away from the wall, and followed Lance as he crossed the room. His bed was changed again—fresh sheets and all, and a tea tray was left at the end of his bed. He poured himself a cup and took a sip as he turned and realized that Hunk was fiddling with his fingers like he always did when he was nervous.

“What? I’m not gonna faint on you like I did with Thace,” Lance said with a scoff. “Stop looking so worried about me.”

“It’s not… _that_ , really,” Hunk started, worrying his lip between his teeth as he wondered for far Pidge and gotten, and how much longer he needed to stall their friend. He couldn’t think of anything else except for the conversation he stood in on with Empress Allura.

Anything that could cure her brother was top priority, even if that _something_ happened to be Keith Kogane, son of Zarkon, potential _threat to the throne_ …

Pidge was off on strict orders from Allura. She intercepted Keith after following the directions of the guards along the way, and nabbed him in the garden as he was in the middle of a conversation with Shiro. “Urgent business from the Empress,” Pidge said, bowing respectfully to the two of them before perking up at the sight of Shiro stepping forward. “For Keith.”

“Me? Why?” Keith questioned, slim violet eyes narrowing.

“I’m… afraid I don’t know the details,” she lied, and offered an apologetic smile. “But I have orders to lead you there. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Keith scoffed and passed his brother with a nudge of his elbow to Shiro’s side. “ _Urgent business_ and she says ‘If I don’t mind.’”

“Don’t be rude,” Shiro sighed.

“And Shiro,” Pidge started. “Seeing as this concerns your brother, the Empress wants to meet with you and discuss it. You could be of some help in this situation.”

“The… Empress wants to see me?” Shiro repeated, eyes wide as Keith crossed his arms from where he now stood behind Pidge—where she couldn’t see his smug smile. Shiro rolled his eyes at Keith and sighed, “All right. Lead the way, Miss Pidge.”

And so, as Lance took a sip of his tea, Hunk strayed closer to the door. “So what is it then? My sister’s _got_ to be worried. I feel fine now, though,” Lance was saying, rubbing a hand over his stomach through the silky fabric of his robe. “Hunk?”

“Hm?”

“You’re… gettin’ a little lost over there. Are _you_ okay?” Lance questioned, prowling closer after setting his tea aside. Hunk gave a little squeak and shook his head before realizing what he was doing, and nodded fast. “What’s got you so frazzled?”

“I- Um- It was your sister’s idea! I had nothing to do with it!” Hunk cried, clasping his hands over his mouth as Lance came closer, eyes narrowing. “You’re gonna maim me!”

“No I’m not!” Lance exclaimed, throwing his arms down. Hunk took off sprinting towards the door.

“Keith’s on his way! I’ll see you later!” Hunk shrieked, and Lance’s heart plummeted into his empty stomach as he watched his best friend take off sprinting through the open doors of Lance’s room.

Lance gathered his bearings and ran after Hunk, screaming, “You _what!?_ You enabled this! I just know it!”

“I didn’t!” Hunk cried down the hall, and screamed as he turned the corner, skidding to a halt. Lance skidded into the hallway on bare feet, hopping a little with the effort, and nearly fainted right then and there as two people turned the corner, and he heard Pidge saying, “Calm down, Hunk! Gods!”

“Hello Hunk—Or… not?” Keith said, waving at Hunk as he took off sprinting away from the room.

Lance had just enough time to run into the room and escape detection. He flung his arms up at the guards, saying, “Close the doors! Close them!”

They followed his orders, and stood stationed outside of the bedroom until Pidge and Keith approached. Pidge eyed them all—all four of them, two for each set of doors—and put her hands on her hips. “I come on Empress Allura’s orders,” she said, chin up.

Distantly, she swore she could hear Lance shriek from the other side of his room, “ _Traitor!_ ” because a moment later, the guards shared a look with one another and reached to open the doors again.

“What’s this about?” Keith asked, but he couldn’t hide his amused smile, _especially_ after seeing the Prince’s friend book it down the hallway faster than a race horse.

Pidge only guided him into the room a few steps before saying, “I’ll leave you two be then. Guards! Close and lock the doors.”

She slipped out as she said the words, and waved smugly at Keith as he lunged for the doors then. His hands hit the wood as it closed. He dropped to the handles and yanked on them, but the guards were already securing them in place.

Keith turned back around, hands going to his hip. They hadn’t disarmed him—and he knew Alteans were rich for an honest fight. They wouldn’t kill a man if he wasn’t armed. He looked around the room and realized that he wasn’t at all _trapped_ , necessarily. He was on the second floor of the palace in a room with a balcony, a view of the ocean, and… a bed, and floor pillows, and couches and chairs meant for luxurious comfort…

 _Am I… in a bedroom?_ he wondered, pushing himself away from the doors with every intention being to escape from the balcony.

At the time, he simply thought he was stuck alone in the room. He had to admit—he loved Altean interior decorating. He always had a soft spot for intricate, handprinted tapestries. They were everywhere in the palace to muffle the echoes, and it made the entire room feel warm and homely. He passed the heavy red curtains at the balcony doors, and reached the railing where he leaned over and judged the distance…

“I wouldn’t recommend the jump,” someone said beside him, and Keith leapt away, startled by the sound. It was Lance, and Keith really shouldn’t have been as shocked as he was. A room like that _had_ to have belonged to royalty. “Sorry for startling you,” Lance said, the words weighing on his shoulders so he leant against the railing with a sigh. “The jump. I tried it once—broke my arm.”

“No kidding,” Keith breathed, his heart still hammering in his chest as he looked back at the closed, _locked_ doors. “Do you… know what this is about?” he asked.

“Just a little more than you do, I imagine,” Lance said, stepping closer.

Keith looked back at the motion, and the way Lance’s brilliant eyes were bluer than he initially thought. He had the pointed ears of Altean royalty—it was an elvish trait that was passed down to all generations for the past several _centuries_. It was difficult to notice during a brief chat in the garden, or from across the dining table at that first feast he saw Lance.

“How do you like it here?” Lance asked as the ocean breeze came in. Keith’s eyes were suddenly stuck where Lance’s bath robe exposed his soft brown skin.

“It’s… fine,” Keith said, swallowing hard as Lance came closer, and made it difficult to focus on his chest when his eyes were so up close and _personal_.

There was something hypnotizing about Lance’s eyes that made it impossible for either of them to turn away. Later, Lance couldn’t be entirely sure of what had happened, aside from the fact that it was riddled with his incredible emotions like during those weeks he courted Hunk blindly. But for Keith… Keith was just along for the ride.

“You know…” Lance started, eyes now half lidded as he smiled softly at Keith. Keith was certain his face had never been closer to another person’s in his entire life. “The first time I saw you… I was _so certain_ you were the most remarkable person I had ever met. I had never met you before, I know nothing about you, but…”

“What’s this a—” Keith started, and was swiftly silenced by Lance’s lips falling on his.

Keith let out a gasp that Lance stole and clung to. He leant into Keith for full support, but Keith lost all of his gracefulness, his agility, his _common sense_. He fell against the railing with a cry, shoving Lance away. The extra space gave Keith a second to grab his knife from its holster. The instant he saw Lance coming for him again, he slashed the blade in the first place he could reach—Lance’s thigh _._

 _“Fuck!_ ” Lance shrieked, slapping his hands over the deep cut as Keith fell completely on the ground. He scrambled back, and pushed himself to his feet. He scrambled for the railing and swung over it without a second thought. “Keith! Oh Gods!” Lance screamed.

Lance tried to chase after Keith, but he didn’t even make it to the railing. His leg gave out and he dropped to his knees with another curse. He clasped a bloody hand to one of the railing dowels. “ _Guards!_ Guards!” he yelled, panting as the agony of the cut started to seep like hot, burning tar across his thigh.

As the guards ran to Lance’s aid, Keith hit the ground with a roll and popped back up without an issue. Unlike childhood Lance, Keith had experience in this sort of ordeal. And, generally, the Galra were a resilient race that made it possible for Keith to drop from a third story window and come out just fine on the ground. It took some experience, but Keith perfected his landings, and his climbing, which was what brought him to the forest where instincts told him to do so. It wasn’t until he settled in one of the high branches that he was finally able to relax for a moment and realize what an idiot he was.

His breath stung his chest like nothing else. The run did wonders to embellish his idiocy. It felt like he was being punished for his stupidity. He put a hand to his forehead as he propped the knife up into view and swore under his breath. Of everyone he could have practically-stabbed, it _had to be the Empress’s brother_. He didn’t even think when he did it. Even if he claimed it was self-defense, he couldn’t imagine anyone would buy it. What imbecile would call a kiss from Lance a _bad thing?_ In hindsight, Keith couldn’t even claim that. He had just been so startled that his adrenaline kicked him in his own ass and sliced open Lance’s leg.

“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned, shoving the heels of his palms against his burning eye sockets.

He dragged a hand over his mouth as the thought of Lance came back. _I can’t believe he called me ‘remarkable,’_ he thought, flushing bright red up in the tree while the Empress’s guards fanned out across the palace grounds in search of him.

  


. . .

  


“Holy shit that _hurts_! Fuck— _This_ is why I was never raised for war. Someone could trip me on the battlefield and I’d run home crying,” Lance prattled on to distract himself from the fact that Thace was stitching a needle through his skin. One thing was certain: the pain made it impossible for Lance to let his imagination “run wild,” so there was no escaping this little _endeavor_.

“I’m so sorry this happened—I- I acted too rashly. I shouldn’t have—This is all my fault,” his sister said, head in her hands. Lance reached a hand out to her, pulling it from her face so he could clasp it tight. He felt the moisture of her tears stuck in the palm of her hand, and offered an encouraging smile that came out as a grimace as Thace tugged on the thread. “Keith will pay for this—I swear it.”

“Oh gods, you’re so dramatic,” Lance sighed, looking away. He had half a mind to drop her hand right then and there. “This is my fault, if anything. One second I was panicking, and the next I just… let something come over me. I was too forward with him. I think I scared him.”

“ _Scared him_?” Allura blurted out, furious. “How can you blame yourself for this? Lance!”

Lance rolled his eyes, only to squeak when another nip of pain pinched his irritated wound. “I swear to you that this was _not_ Keith’s fault. He’s probably too terrified to show himself in fear of _you_ beheading him or some… medieval shit like that.”

“I would not _behead him_ ,” she hissed, sitting back in her chair with a huff. “Besides, I’m more for _hanging_ than anything.”

“ _Allura!_ ” Lance squeaked, blushing at the thought. He had always been an empathetic, emotional guy, and anything that had to do with his sister’s dark side had him curling in on himself.

“I’m sorry, Lance, but it’s true. And I don’t want you defending this man simply because you don’t want to see him suffer the consequences of his actions. I will keep that as far from you as possible,” she said.

“You can’t! He didn’t mean it!” Lance cried, and when Allura stood to walk away, he held onto her hand tighter, forcing her to stay by his side. “When Keith comes back, let me talk to him.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, Empress,” Thace started, looking up at Allura for permission to speak. She sighed, and nodded to him. “I cannot be entirely sure that Lance’s hanahaki would disappear if Keith was no longer in the picture. We would have to risk surgery, and even then I have no sure answer for the outcome of that. I wouldn’t want to risk it, ma’am.” With that, Thace clipped the end of the knot, and softly cleaned around the wound before wrapping it and packing up his things.

As he stood up, Allura gave him a stern look and said, “I don’t know you very well, Thace… but I can’t help but trust your judgement here. We would be at a loss without you.”

Thace turned red at the compliment, and bowed his head to hide it. “I’m glad I could be of service to you. I’ll continue checking up on Lance and monitor for another unsettling… episode.”

Thace left the two of them, and the moment he was gone, Allura had the guards close the doors and leave them, prompting Lance to groan in annoyance and turn over on his side so that he could weave the blankets between his legs and cushion his wounded one. “Lance… don’t turn your back on me,” she said.

“All you’ll see is my back if you decide to punish Keith for this. I’m _fine_. I’m not _dead_. I’m sure if he wanted me dead, I’d be dead already,” Lance said, voice partially muffled by his pillow.

A moment of silence passed in which Allura twisted her hands around in front of her, and paced to the other side of the bed so she could see Lance’s face. She tipped her head to the side and studied her brother’s complexion, and how elegant his features were. Even when Lance was just an infant, she found him beautiful. Normally, she despised children and hated the fact that her advisor was already setting the date for an arranged marriage if she didn’t decide herself. She was certain she would never find a child more beautiful than Lance, and so, even at five years old, she raised Lance like he was her own. There was no way for her to be emotionally mature enough to support a child—no one was ever _truly_ ready for it, but for Lance, she wanted to be.

And being a mother figure to Lance meant that she decided she had to make hard choices for him. This one wasn’t her decision.

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll let him pass.”

Lance sat up a little, startled by her swift yield. He expected to fight her over this until the moment Keith was found. “Really?” he all but rasped.

She looked up to the ceiling as if to say, _Gods help me_. But, the hug Lance gave her was definitely a blessing, and it did wonders in convincing her that she was doing the right thing. “Yes, but I still need to have a stern word with Pidge. You’ll be getting new guards, and I want one with you at all times—either that, or to have Pidge supervise you whenever Keith is around. This is as lenient as I’m going to get—”

“ _Thank you_. That’s fine. I’m okay with that,” he promised, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder as she laughed at his compliance. “And I stick to what I said—I want to speak with Keith the _moment_ they find him. I have to apologize for the way I acted.”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do,” she promised, and as she left his quarters, she was already planning on what _she_ would say to Keith before she’d let the guards fetch Lance. But first—she had a bone to pick with Pidge.

  


. . .

  


Keith thought the coast was clear, but he didn’t really have a plan on how to turn himself in. For an hour there, he suspected that he’d have to disappear from the Empire completely, find a small town to disguise himself in, maybe become a _farmer_ or something crude like that where the Empress wouldn’t think to look.

The fact that the guards found him straight away made the “turning in” part easier than he thought it’d be.

The second his feet touched the ground, someone was shouting in the distance, and the footsteps came faster than Keith thought possible. He tensed up in fear, and, frozen in place, he didn’t even fight when the guard grabbed him by the arm and disarmed him in one swift movement. The sheath for his knife was ripped from his waist. The guard shoved him forceful ahead, securing his hands behind his back for the walk back to the palace. All the while, the guard’s partner was sent ahead to shut down the search for Keith.

The second they were back on the premises, Keith was certain there was a dungeon or something they were preparing a cell for him in, but instead of all that, they were confronted by a frantic man with an orange mustache running down the corridor. Keith was barely through the door when one of the guards kicked the back of his knees out. He dropped to the ground with a gasp, and before he could attempt to wrench himself free, the man came yelling, “Hey! Enough of that—Empress Allura wants to speak to him.”

“Aw, c’mon Coran,” the guard said, shoving Keith’s head down with a forceful push. Keith grunted, teeth grinding together as the guy said, “You really expect me to believe she’s gonna let this guy off easy? After what he did to her brother?”

The orange-haired man—Coran—stomped over and slapped the guard on the back of the head, and whipped his hand against the shoulder of his comrade, who had been chuckling behind his hand. “I’ll take him from here. See to it that the guards return back to their normal stands. Understood?”

The guards grumbled their agreements, and left nursing the bruises Coran gave them. The moment the doors creaked shut, Keith was brought back to his feet and dusted off. “Terribly sorry about that,” the man said with a genuine smile.

“Coran, huh? Imperial advisor to the Empress?” Keith asked, and after having the restraints taken off, was given Coran’s hand to shake.

“That would be me. We met briefly the day you got here,” he said, clasping his hands together as he started off down the hall. After a moment, Keith followed suit, and made sure to stick close on every occasion they passed Allura’s guards. “Oh, don’t mind them. They’re just worried about the safety of the Empress and her family. We all are. These are dangerous times.”

“I know. I doubt they’ll smile at me again—not that… they ever _did_ it’s just… they’re stoic at all times,” he stammered, pinching his fingers against his hair as Coran laughed. “I was… wondering if it’s at all possible that I might… ask for Prince Lance’s forgiveness? And offer my apologies, that is.”

“You’ll have to take that up with the Empress,” Coran said as they turned down a familiar path. It was the same one Keith took with Shiro during their first night, when Pidge showed them around the palace. They were getting closer and closer to the throne room where Keith’s fate would be decided.

Meanwhile, it was difficult for Allura to keep her temper in check. She knew she’d regret it if she decided to act on her first impulse—Lance would never look at her again, and if he did… there was the ultimate threat that it would be on his deathbed. It didn’t help that this entire shitshow started and ended in the presence of Keith’s eldest brother, who showed all of the signs of someone who hadn’t expected any of this to happen. It made condemning Keith an even more difficult task.

“I have absolutely no reason to suspect that Keith did any of this out of malicious intent,” Shiro insisted. “If you could give me a moment to speak with him about this—“

“I know, Shiro, but I cannot guarantee anything until I speak with him first,” she said in passing, stepping beyond Shiro’s level near the throne. The room was significantly more empty than the day Shiro first set foot in it, but it just served to echo his feelings and emotions, which resonated in the hollow shell of his shock. He had been in a daze since the sun had gone down, and now that it was nearly dawn, he had exhausted himself with worry.

Allura’s servants straightened out her robes when she turned to face the center of the room. She sat after they backed away, and a solemn expression came to her face. She rested in the silence before the doors opened, and footsteps echoed into the hall.

The servant beside her took a step forward to relay her titles, but Allura simply raised a hand to skip the formality. The last thing she wanted to do was waste time. “Coran, go fetch Lance,” she ordered. “See that he doesn’t have to walk.”

The clarification had Keith putting a hand to his face, hoping that then he wouldn’t have to witness the look of disappointment on his brother’s face. In the end, he was forced to stand his ground, and confront the loathsome glare on the Empress’s face.

“You could have _killed_ my brother,” she spat at him. “Not only that, but you ran like a coward. I hear my guards found you descending from a _tree_.”

Keith ducked his head, murmuring, “I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking _at all_ , really.”

“I don’t care who you are—if you hurt my brother again, Keith—”

“The world wouldn’t miss me,” he said, raising his chin up to meet her gaze. “I’m not the heir, so I have no significant title. I’ve come to terms with my worth, so… you can rest easy knowing that I support your decision. Lance was hurt by my hand—I accept the consequences.”

“Keith—” Shiro started, but Allura swiftly interrupted him.

“Are you saying you aren’t remorseful over this?” she said.

“No—not at all,” Keith exclaimed, shaking his head. “I didn’t intend to hurt him! I didn’t even know where I was or if anyone was with me when I was put in the room. None of this could have been premeditated.”

Allura relaxed back in her seat with a sour look on her face. “So… I guess you could say you were _scared_ ,” she said, and in that moment, the doors to the throne room opened.

Keith turned to look back at it, and his heart sank at the sound of wheels creaking on the tiles. A nurse came in, pushing a wheelchair with Lance sat in it. Despite how he looked, Lance had the biggest goddamn smile on his face.

He was barely close enough for Keith to whisper an apology before Lance was saying, “Cool battle scar, am I right?”

Keith couldn’t even stifle his laugh. He clasped a hand over his face to cover it, and looked back to find the Empress rolling her eyes. “Yeah, cool battle scar. I just… wish it wasn’t me who caused it,” Keith confessed as Lance took control of the steering and wheeled up beside Keith on the tile.

“Look, Lance—” he started, but Lance waved a hand to silence him.

“It was an accident. If anything I should… be apologizing for prompting it,” he confessed, turning away with a guilty look on his face.

“I was surprised—I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” Keith said. “I’m… not called ‘ _remarkable_ ’ very often,” he added in a whisper, and it brought Lance’s gaze up to meet his. Keith turned away with a blush coloring his cheeks. He reached a hand back to scratch his head.

He caught Allura’s gaze and felt everything collide in his chest at once. She would never let Keith court Lance—especially after all of this. He had no right to even _attempt it_ , but… the kiss told him that it’d be worth a shot anyways.

“You’re free to go, then,” she said, rising from the chair. She straightened the sleeves of her robes as Keith’s eyes widen. He shared a look with his brother, who had a small smile on his lips at the news.

“Before I go,” Keith said, interrupting her attempt to leave. She gave him a sour look, and earned a sigh from Lance at the look. Keith ducked his head to look at his hands before meeting her stoney gaze again. “Since… Lance doesn’t have any parents, I suppose I should come to you to ask for permission to court him?”

He expected her to say something like, “Don’t push it,” but he _certainly_ hadn’t expected a sigh of relief.

“You asked the right person. I give you permission—just don’t ruin it for all of us,” she said.

When she left, Shiro didn’t. Instead, he stormed up to Keith before he could even turn to see what Lance’s expression looked like. The moment Shiro raised his hand, Keith was expecting it, and braced himself for Shiro to tug on his ear and yank him away from Lance’s side.

“I can’t believe you did this. I thought you were going to _die_ today,” Shiro hissed.

“I know— _ouch_! Let go of my ear,” Keith cried, slapping at Shiro’s arm until Shiro started slapping at his hand, and they ended with a grudging resolve to step back. “Sorry for worrying you—”

“ _Sorry?_ Dear _gods_ , Keith, Lance has fifteen stitches in his leg!” he shouted, gesturing with both hands to Lance, who was still sat in the wheelchair. Keith wasn’t expecting Lance’s eyes to be focused solely on him, though, and Lance smiled when their eyes connected from across the room.

Keith was still distracted by Lance when Shiro enveloped him in a hug and breathed, “Don’t scare me like that again. Don’t do anything stupid like that again.”

“I promise I won’t,” Keith said, voice muffled in his brother’s shoulder. “I won’t do anything like that again.”

Shiro stepped back and rubbed his hands over his eyes. He’d been crying, and the sentiment nearly had Keith doing the same. “Okay. I’m done. I’m sleeping for eleven hours and neither of you can stop me,” he said at last, and left without another word. Keith watched after his brother before realizing that the nurse was still there with them, as were several… angry guards.

“Allura’s orders,” Lance said, but he didn’t seem at all put off by it. “Pidge will be supervising us for a while, too.”

“Oh goodie,” Keith sighed, stepping over to take control of the wheelchair. He barely reached it before Lance’s hand was reaching for his, and he ducked down onto his knees to meet Lance at his new level.

They both hesitated, and Keith eventually filled the silence with a soft, “I shouldn’t have acted violently.”

“It was justified, but Keith—”

“That… was my first kiss,” he confessed, lifting his eyes up from where Lance had linked their fingers together. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Lance’s cheeks were red, and it spread all the way up to the tips of his pointed ears. Keith laughed nervously, and said, “Sorry… you probably didn’t need to know that.”

“No- I- That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Lance said, voice choking up as Keith gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder.

“Shut up…”

“Want to try again?” he asked, grin bordering on cheeky as Keith turned into a red, flustering mess and whined, “You’re too much!” He put his forehead on the armrest of Lance’s chair as Lance giggled and slumped over him with a flourish of “aw!”s.

In the end, Keith wheeled Lance up to his room. Of course, stairs made it difficult to do so, and the guards wouldn’t let Keith carry Lance himself, so he carried the wheelchair up while one of the guards lifted Lance bridal-style to the second floor. They wouldn’t Keith set a single toe into Lance’s bedroom, so they said a simultaneous good-night, good-morning before departing for the day. Keith was too exhausted for anything more than that after spending the night up in a _goddamn tree._

With Thace, Pidge, and Florona’s good work, Lance was back on his feet before any of them thought possible. He was quick to work around the guard’s rules and would barge into Keith’s room with next to no notice. He started to expect it, though, so no notice was needed for it after a while.

But before all that, before Lance could walk again, Keith would wheel him around the palace in between meals and they’d talk endlessly. Lance was still plagued by the illusion of Keith insisted that none of this should be happening, but every time he saw and talked to Keith, it was difficult for him to think of anyone else. Keith had Lance’s full attention, and nothing would change that, not even his imagination.

Regardless of how well things were going, Lance couldn’t help but worry about _other_ things that could prevent it. He was starting to lose his appetite again, and Thace’s examinations concluded that he had about a week before another episode like the last one occurred.

“There’s… something that’s been worrying me,” Lance confessed one day at the edge of the garden. Keith looked so beautiful, backlit by the sunlight streaming in through the ceiling windows.

“What is it?” he asked, kneeling in front of Lance again, his hands resting on Lance’s knees.

“It’s about… that night I kissed you,” he started, his nerves turning his cheeks pink. “I’m not sure if you know this, but… I’m not _entirely_ human. And sometimes my instincts get the better of me. They sometimes make me… _forward_ with my emotions, and I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything my instincts might want.”

“If you’re not entirely human, what are you?” Keith asked, confident as ever.

“I’m part nymph,” he said, ducking his head. “Which is to say I don’t get the instinct pureblooded nymphs do to—”

“—Kill their partners,” Keith finished. “So that night…”

“I never intended to be so forward about how I felt. I was so nervous about you coming in that I just… I just sort of gave in to my instincts because they make me feel calmer. More confident,” he confessed.

“But everything your instincts want—you want as well?” Keith argued, and Lance gave a half shrug. “I trust you, Lance. Whatever you want, I’ll be there for you. And sure it was a surprise, but now I can expect it more often. I don’t want you to be nervous around me, okay?”

Lance’s smile made the agreement all the more worthwhile. Keith stood up and laid a kiss to Lance’s forehead before insisting they keep moving. A weight was lifted from Lance’s shoulders, and he told himself that maybe… it’d be fun to find out what his instincts want once in a while.

Just maybe.


	2. { learning to float }

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become worse before they get better, and when Lance's disease continues to progress despite his relations with Keith, Thace has to search for other solutions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ That person who said Lance wasn't cured yet: YOU RIGHT. nyeeehehehehe

“Take it slow—we don’t want anything to go wrong by putting strain on the fresh scar tissue,” Thace warned Lance as they walked together down the hall. Lance had a hand viciously clenching Thace’s forearm—not that it hurt to walk or anything, just simply out of sheer _worry_. His nerves were bundling up all around his aching stomach where the bloating was getting worse. The longer his illness went on, the more he worried about Thace’s situation.

Thace wasn’t from the area and just happened to be staying with a doctor in the city when Coran came by. He had a husband at home and two children, and around the time Thace was supposed to be returning… well… a letter came in his place along with the stipend Coran gave for helping find the cure. And while the cure wasn’t setting in yet—he and Keith hadn’t gotten that far yet—Lance was determined to do everything he could to make a swift recovery, and to give Thace a swift return home.

But in order to do that, he had to take a few _things_ into consideration. Keith’s limits were a necessary evil during these times, and his ignorance was on Lance’s part. The last thing he wanted was for obvious pressure to be put on the man, and being forward with his emotions would—

Lance felt something touch his shoulder, and turned to look away from Thace, and to the image of Keith walking in stride with him. Lance’s steps hesitated, and a blush blossomed across his cheeks as Keith held up that violet flower, and slipped it behind Lance’s ear. His fingers were gentle, and Lance was frozen by the hot intensity of Keith’s stare…

“Are you daydreaming again, Lance?” Thace asked. It wasn’t an accusatory question, but Lance always felt like his daydreams were off limits these days. Even if it _was_ his imagination, this version of Keith made him feel like he was cheating on the _real_ one.

Keith laid a finger to his lips again, but Lance learned fast that there wouldn’t be any repercussions if he dismissed his hallucinations once in a while.

“Yeah, sorry,” he confessed, turning away from Keith and absently brushing his hand over his shoulder. Keith dropped his fingers from Lance’s hair, and stood staring after Lance as they started to walk away.

They walked in another circle around the garden until Lance’s sides began to cramp. “I don’t think I can keep going,” he confessed, sweat already collecting on his forehead. “I’m not feeling the greatest, if I’m being completely honest.”

“That’s fine. You did good today. You shouldn’t need supervision walking, so I’ll let your guards know that they shouldn’t be alarmed to see you up and out of bed,” Thace reassured him. “What’s troubling you?”

Lance laid a hand over his stomach.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, reading until his eyes grew tired of it. Hunk came by to visit him, and took up where Lance left off in the book. Lance closed his eyes to the sound of Hunk’s voice, mainly so that he wouldn’t have to look at the illusion of Keith laying beside him with his head upon Lance’s chest. He knew that this Keith couldn’t be real because he was so light that even his touch felt like a feather.

“I ran into Thace on the way here—he wants you to at _least_ drink some water if you aren’t going to go to dinner,” Hunk said, setting the book down to reach for the pitcher of water one of the servants brought in.

Lance groaned but grudgingly accepted the offer. He took small sips at a time until he choked at the sight of someone wandering in through his bedroom door with a guard following him. Any sighting of Keith had Lance’s daydreams scattering into a misty, violet cloud until he was left alone in his bed with Hunk at his side, book turned over in his lap.

“Keith!” Lance squeaked.

“I… heard you weren’t feeling great,” he said, coming to stand at the end of the bed.

“You—! You aren’t supposed to be in here, are you?” Lance asked, voice pitched high as Keith laughed. His cheeks turned all shades of red.

“No, I’m not. Pidge bullied the guards for me,” he confessed, smiling at the less-than-amused guard beside him. “And Hunk’s here so I don’t think I’d be able to _do anything_.”

Lance followed the gentle curve of Keith’s lips turning into a smirk. Everything in Lance threatened to combust at the suggestion, and something feral inside of him wanted to shove both Hunk and the guard out so he could find out what Keith meant by “anything.” Instead of giving in—though _giving in_ gave Lance the same feeling of eating untold amounts of sweets without any reservation or scorn—Lance’s eyes went wide as his ears flushed, and Hunk went on laughing at Lance’s reaction. Lance lashed out and flicked his friend in the arm as Keith came to sit on the edge of the bed.

Keith propped a leg up underneath his opposite knee and reached for the book on Hunk’s lap. “What are you two reading?” he asked.

“ _Fair Weather Affairs_. A classic,” Hunk said. “We’ve just gotten to the part where the main character leaves her wife and—”

“Don’t spoil anything!” Lance squeaked. “He probably hasn’t read it! It’s ridiculous and doesn’t seem like your type of reading, Keith.”

Keith paged through and read a part of the preface before saying, “A _romance_. Sounds like your type of gig. And you’re right—I don’t usually have the patience for romance novels.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in the libraries though. What else would you be reading if not romantic eroticas?” Hunk teased as Lance groaned into his hands.

Keith flushed, and took to distracting himself with the book before confessing, “I’ve… actually been doing research on nymphs. I’ve heard the Altean Palace has the largest collection of both nymphal texts and medicinal plants.”

“Strange combination—I know,” Hunk laughed, leaning back in his chair as Keith handed the novel back to him.

“Nymphs? Why?” Lance asked, eyes wide. He wondered how much Keith dug into. Most of the texts were on pureblooded nymphs, and most of it was untrue to halfblooded nymphs like himself. But… with everything surrounding Lance, multiple studies came out around his kind at the request of Coran searching for more information about what to expect when it came to raising a halfblooded nymph.

“Well… I have to admit I don’t know anything much of _anything_ about nymphs,” Keith confessed. “And our talk the other day got me thinking about them.”

Lance remembered it clearly, and felt guilty for not explaining what, exactly, he meant by his instincts. Keith must have just assumed the innocent details about it, but every now and then Lance had to fight the flare of passion that welled up inside because he knew his immediate romantic notions were far more intense than anything Keith was ready for. Pureblooded nymphs were known for being ruthlessly compelling, and would go so far as to hypnotize their conquests.

Lance had never gone that far, as far as he knew, because Hunk had always been lucid during their encounters when Lance fell in and out of love with him.

But… Keith didn’t seem all that nervous to talk to Lance, even after studying books on nymphs. “Is it true you can shapeshift?” he asked.

“Oh! No, only pureblooded nymphs can shapeshift,” he said quickly. “I haven’t been able to do much more than control water once in a while.”

“So water’s your element then?” Keith asked, and Lance nodded. “That must be incredible. It makes sense that you live right next to the ocean, then.”

“Yeah… Allura and I have done plenty of speculating about that…” Lance confessed as he scratched at his chin. When it became clear that Lance was half nymph, and what his element was, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that his father came from the ocean itself, right out of their backyard. It would have been easy for their mother to encounter water nymphs.

“We should go to the ocean some time,” Keith said. “I’ve never been on a beach before.”

“ _Ever?_ ” Lance cried, bolting up and regretting it instantly. He tipped over with a moan of discomfort. The severity of it had saliva building in his mouth, and he floundered franticly for Hunk to—

“Shit! Oh no, hold on!” Hunk shrieked, and shouted at the guard to get the buckets as Lance clasped a hand over his mouth and tried to hold it in.

Keith leaned over to help Lance over to the edge of the bed. The instant the bucket was there, Lance’s throat convulsed and sent a hiccup gasping out of him. Water spilled out into the bucket, followed by dozens upon dozens of flower petals he spat off of his tongue. The strain of it sent his eyes watering, but he barely had time to recover before he was heaving again.

“Get Doctor Thace!” Hunk ordered one of the guards, who ran off out of the room as Keith rubbed circles over Lance’s back and tried his best not to look in the bucket.

But he couldn’t stop staring once he saw a full flower, crumpled and smushed, drop among the others—covered in saliva and bile and whatever else happened to be in Lance’s stomach. The leaves were more recognizable than the rest, but Keith saw enough dragon’s tongue in his days to know what it looked like, even regurgitated from someone’s stomach.

“What’s he doing eating _dragon’s tongue?_ ” Keith asked Hunk.

“Long story…” Hunk said, waving his hands nervously as he swiftly swapped buckets and hurried to dump the contents down the toilet.

Lance leant back, unable to control his sobs as he dissolved into a fit of weathered emotions. He put his hands over his face so Keith couldn’t see him cry, but his face turned blotchy and he had to take the towel Keith offered him to wipe his mouth and eyes anyways. The pain in his stomach had him tipping onto his side, curled up into a fetal position as Keith pushed his hair back and took a damp towel from Hunk to lay it over Lance’s forehead. He started coughing so hard that his voice turned into a rasp as he coughed up petals into the tissue Hunk gave him.

It was during this lull that Thace arrived with Coran on his heels, and pushed Keith aside to check Lance’s state. He laid a stethoscope to Lance’s back and asked him to take deep breaths. After a few moments, Thace lowered the stethoscope in silence.

“What is it?” Coran demanded. “This is just like last time, isn’t it?”

“It’s reached his lungs,” Thace all but whispered, turning his tired eyes up to them. “I… didn’t expect it to move this quickly.”

“What does that mean?” Keith said. “This has happened before?”

The room fell silent aside from Lance’s rattled breathing. Thace stood from the bed and took Coran aside, and as they left, Hunk dropped to his knees beside Lance and said things like, “It’ll be fine, just hang in there.”

“It _hurts_ …” Lance cried, gasping as tears collected on his eyelids like frozen rain droplets.

“What is it? What’s wrong with him?” Keith demanded, voice shaking as he turned to where Coran was coming back. He reached a hand out to Keith, and everything about his body language told Keith that Lance was dying.

And that was how Keith learned the truth about halfblooded nymphs.

  


. . .

  


When Pidge heard the news that Lance relapsed, she found Keith sitting outside of the bedroom door with his arms over his knees, and his head against them. Her footsteps slowed, and the sound prompted him to look up, and for her to see his red, tearful eyes.

“This is all my fault,” he croaked, and Pidge hid the shock on her face as Keith’s voice faded into another sob he hid against his arms. “I- I keep _fucking this up—_ ”

Pidge lowered herself down to Keith’s level, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “ _Literally_ no one could have predicted this. Hanahaki happens at random—it could have been with anyone Lance fell in love with.”

“I _know_ , but what kind of _luck is it_ that it _just so happened_ to happen with _me?_ ” he hissed, viciously rubbing his sleeves over his eyes. When he cried, it looked like he was smiling, and the sight just caused Pidge’s throat to close up when she swallowed back her sorrows about the circumstances.

“I know, it sucks,” she sighed.

They lapsed into silence as Keith tried to steady his breathing, but it still hiccuped and lurched when he thought about Lance in there, and how much pain he must be in. He was suffocating because of _Keith_. If Keith had never come here…

“It’s in his lungs,” he said at last, tipping his head back against the wall. “Thace doesn’t know how long he has.”

“Oh gods…” Pidge said, looking back at the doors. They were closed, and all the guards looked as stoic as they could be.

Keith brushed his hands over his cheeks again and said, “I haven’t cried since I was five and my father told me to be quiet and suck it up. It feels weird.”

“The worst part about crying is how you feel afterwards,” she said, and smiled when Keith offered a curt laugh.

As soon as Keith quieted, he turned stiff and uncomfortable, and lifted his knees back up as if to block his face. “You should… check on Lance, then. I’ll just be here.”

“Okay,” Pidge agreed, and stood up without a moment to waste. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was no way _not_ to be after seeing Keith cry like that. Crying in public just seemed to bring out the best in people like Pidge, who never considered herself to be a comforter to begin with.

She shuddered at the thought and shook her head as she passed the guards. She pushed inside and regretted it almost immediately, because the sound of Lance retching nearly made her vomit right on the threshold. Hand on her chest, she swallowed back the bile she was about to hurl across the room.

“Oh thank the gods—Pidge!” Hunk cried across the room, half-jogging across the room. He thrust a bucket into her hands, and she held it with her thumb and forefinger a distance away. “I need a breather—you take over.”

“Wait— _what?_ Hunk—! Oh for gods sakes,” she exclaimed, stomping her foot as Hunk booked it out of the bedroom as fast as he possibly could.

She turned back to the room, grimacing as she saw Coran look at her from where he was rubbing Lance’s back where the sweat turned his clothes a dark blue. “Glad you could join us, Pidge,” Coran said sarcastically, and she laughed insincerely back. The last thing she wanted was to be on the Bucket Support Team.

“Allura’s concerned. She’s wondering why this happened when Keith and Lance are together,” she said as she walked over and passed the bucket to Coran. Lance laid back on the bed then, wheezing with a hand over his heart. His breath rattled in his chest. _Keith did say it reached Lance’s lungs_... Pidge thought as she stopped by Lance’s bedside and caught his gaze.

“It could be that Lance doesn’t think Keith’s affections are genuine—either that, or his mind is convincing him not to believe it,” Thace explained.

“What can we do to change his mind then?” she demanded. “In case you’ve _forgotten_ , we’ve got a lot at stake over this.”

“I know, I know—I’ve been trying to think of something but I- I can’t with—” They all hesitated at the sound of Lance coughing into the bucket. The sound just echoed against the metal and had Pidge shuddering in response.

She nudged Thace aside and said, “I’ll take over here. You go ‘ _think of something._ ’”

Thace looked cautiously over to the imperial advisor, who was exiting the bathroom with a disgruntled sigh. Coran and Thace shared a look before Thace nodded and ran off into the hallway, grabbing his medical bag along the way.

He was hardly past the guards before he realized that Keith was still there. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the lad, aside from devastation and guilt. The two other patients he treated had similar partners—guilt-ridden for having caused this effect, and Keith was no different. Thace slowed in the hallway, shouldering his bag as Keith hurried to his feet, face paler than usual.

“How… How is he? Is he going to be all right?” he asked.

Thace learned a thing or two about being a doctor, and it was how to be elusive with the truth. “Lance’s condition is bad, yes, but… I think there’s still hope.”

“What can I do? Did I do something wrong? I thought—he was better before, why suddenly…?” Keith asked, floundering for words until Thace waved a hand to silence him.

“It was bound to happen again, and I don’t believe it’s your fault. Any affection you can offer Lance is by far more helpful than any medical tests I can do. But if anything, I think he’s doing this to himself by accident,” Thace explained.

Keith ducked his head, driven to silence by the fact that he couldn’t trust his own words. Thace looked down the hall, his plan still formulating in the back of his mind as he laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder comfortingly. “You’ve… done research on nymphs? Hunk mentioned it in there.”

“I have, yes.”

“Then you know about their overactive imaginations,” Thace said. “When you aren’t with Lance, he sees apparitions of you insisting he keep quiet about his affections for you. It’s his mind’s way of self-destructing, so to speak. The less he opens up to you, the more likely you’ll be to hold back your own feelings.

“This is _not_ your fault, Keith. We don’t expect you to be there for him constantly, especially before you knew what was going on. But now that you do, I have to warn you—the Empress will try to pressure you into loving Lance, but Lance will never find your affections genuine unless you take your time in accepting them. Does that make sense?”

“We don’t have time for that, though, do we?” Keith asked quietly.

“We have a little more time than you probably think,” he said, voice quiet. “Once this episode is over, his stomach and lungs will be clear, and he’ll have another week or so before they grow back and make it uncomfortable for him to eat or breathe.”

Keith put a hand over his face as Thace let go of him. He took his leave then, though when he turned to look back at Keith, he found the boy already disappearing into Lance’s room. The guards no longer sought to stop him, because if anyone could cure their precious Prince, it was Keith.

So off Thace went, on the hunt to search for a bizarre lead that was really all they had in the defense against Lance’s hanahaki disease. Thace considered this theory plenty of times in the hindsight of his previous cases, but… he could never trust it fully. How could he, being a man of science and intellect?

Hypnosis just didn’t seem plausible, but it was worth the shot.

Thace requested a carriage to take him into the city where he returned to the stoop of the house Coran found him staying at. He consulted his fellow physician on where to find psychics and sorcerers in the city, and together the two of them drove around the city going to every door with signs surrounding the impossible—from tarot cards to palmistry, to party magicians and alchemists. They came close with the alchemist, but the risk was too high. Thace hadn’t mentioned the status of his patient at all, but one mention of “hanahaki” and people would start raising their eyebrows and scratching their temples. The only half-nymph around was the Prince himself. It’d be too obvious.

It grew too dark to continue going around knocking on doors, so Thace stayed in the city overnight. The carriage driver who took him to the city sent word to Coran, informing him that Thace would be out for the next day searching for the hypnotist they decided upon.

At last, the following morning they came to a beachside manor where the front steps were dusted with sand. Thace climbed the stoop and banged the iron knocker against the wood five times before anyone answered. There was a crude illustration in the window of a clock ticking in the face of gems and cards, and though the open sign was down, the door was soon answered.

Several locks came undone, though when the door at last opened, the image of the woman was obscured by several chains still keeping the door safely secured.

“What is it? What do you want?” she demanded.

Taken aback, Thace stuttered for a moment before saying “Oh—Um, hello. I’ve been going across the entire city in search of a hypnotist? Do you happen to practice hypnotism at this establishment?”

She squinted her eyes at him, a bit of her heavy blonde hair falling out of her headband as she shrugged. “Depends on what your price is,” she said.

“I have a price offer, but I need to see that you’re capable of hypnotizing me, first.” _If I’m to trust anyone with Lance, I should be able to trust them myself_ , he thought.

The woman looked him up and down before slamming the door shut. Thace stepped back in alarm, and looked back at the carriage where his friend was waiting for him. Just as Thace was about to descend the stairs, the final locks came undone and the heavy oak door swung open.

“What’re you waitin’ for? Come in, come in,” she said hastily, waving Thace inside.

Thace was instantly burdened by the awful stench of burnt sage—it tended to give off the same smell of burning drugs. He followed the woman into a room full of windows that were covered in tapestries and curtains. They took to sitting on the floor cushions where the woman shook out the bracelets on her wrists.

“I don’t hypnotize people for the wrong reasons, understood?” she said gruffly. “By that I mean—is what we’re doing illegal?”

“ _Illegal?_ Oh, no, not at all,” he reassured her, smiling weakly.

“Good. Now eyes up here,” she demanded, gesturing to her own eyes. The instant Thace met her gaze, she clapped her hands in front of him, sending her bracelets jangling. Thace’s mind vanished from him, disappearing into the void where the woman pulled on his memories by asking, “When I clap again, you tell me why you are hiring me. _Everything_.”

She clapped her hands again, and Thace straightened as if he had just woken up in the back of a long ride in the carriage. The words began falling form his mouth before he could stop them, and it was all along the lines of everything confidential that the Empress swore he would contain to himself. That her brother was ill with hanahaki, and that he had fallen in love with the Prince of a recently-acquired country, and that as of right now, Lance was dying and that a hypnotist was the only thing he could think of to save the Prince.

The instant he came-to, his first sight was of the woman’s startled expression. Clearly, he had overshared.

Before he could apologize and fret over when the Empress was going to send her guards in and kill him where he sat, the woman held out a hand. “You can call me Nyma. I’ll do what I can to help our Prince—assuming the pay is good.”

“You’ll be rewarded handsomely,” Thace reassured her, a breath of relief passing through him as the woman stood and helped him up.

  


. . .

  


Keith didn’t sleep much the following night despite the fact that his brother fought for eight hours of rest for the both of them. Shiro came in an hour or so before sunrise after having woken up to the thought of whether or not Keith was even sleeping. Upon realizing this, he hurried to Lance’s quarters where he ran into Allura on the way, speaking to the nurse charged with taking over Coran’s place in the room.

“Is Keith here?” he asked, aware that he was in nothing but his pajamas and a throw-on coverup to shield himself from the night chill.

Allura turned then, still elegant even at this wretched hour. “Yes, actually. He’s been with Lance since— _Hey!_ ” she cried in alarm when Shiro bypassed her and hurried into the room.

Shiro crossed the room, ignoring the stale stench of sickness in the air. Keith was sitting bent over on a chair beside Lance, his forehead pressed to the blankets until Allura’s voice sounded at the threshold.

“What is it that you think you are doing?” she demanded of Shiro.

“It’s nearly _morning_. Keith needs to be in bed,” he said, and gestured sharply for Keith to get a move on. Keith straightened up in the chair and moved to stand up.

“I think we can all agree that Keith is most useful being here with Lance,” Allura stressed. “The moment this disease took my brother, it became Keith’s sworn duty to prevent it from killing Lance!”

“I know that, but Keith can’t do that if he hasn’t had a full night’s rest,” Shiro insisted.

“Shiro, it’s fine. I’ll stay here tonight,” Keith said quietly, his hand clasping onto Lance’s limp fingers. Lance had long since fallen asleep, and it was the longest half hour in which Lance wasn’t continuously vomiting.

“No. Keith’s physical and mental health is just as important here.”

“Keith is _not_ the one currently _dying_ ,” Allura hissed. “My brother’s needs _far_ outweigh—”

“Your power does not give you the right to undermine the health of your inferiors,” Shiro all but spat at her.

Her jaw dropped, but no words came out. Coran has long since switched places with Florona, but Keith imagined that Coran would have been up in arms at this point.

“It’s nearly dawn and Keith hasn’t slept. Do you think he’ll continue to help Lance tomorrow when he’s delirious and exhausted?”

“ _You—_ ” she seethed, her voice so tight that it twisted into a knot before she could finish the sentence.

Shiro took the opportunity to go to Keith’s side and pull him by the arm. As they left, he pegged Allura with a vicious glare. She stood frozen in anger, and remained that way until she barked at the guards to shut the doors and not let anyone else in until Thace was due to return the next day. Finally able to move, she walked to the edge of Lance’s bed and took a moment to sit on the edge of it and simply watch her brother’s weakened breath lift his chest and flatten it. She reached a hand over and combed it through his damp hair before eventually, slowly, lowering herself to her side. She laid with Lance until the sun rose behind the golden curtains, and Lance woke up to a fit of coughing.

Meanwhile, Keith laid awake trying to fall asleep, and feeling guilty and irritated because he couldn’t. He wasted two hours lying there with his eyes closed before groaning and deciding he couldn’t do it, not when Lance was suffering because of him.

Keith wasn’t blind, and he certainly wasn’t deaf. He heard the way people back at home referred to him, and he could see it every now and then when he looked in the mirror. It wasn’t his fault he was seen as beautiful, and with the uniforms being a consistent thing, he had no reason to dress shabby to avoid the rumors. Both men and women at the garrison used to stop and stare as he walked across the central grounds. He could vividly remember hearing someone say, “The uniforms are so bland and yet he looks so good in them.” 

He’d be lying if he said those comments didn’t unnerve him. He’d be lying if he said those comments didn’t make him self-conscious and worried about how he looked. He’d be lying if he said he liked the spotlight. It was a good thing, then, that Shiro was always in the spotlight back at home. And now?

Now Keith was in the spotlight, and even the Empress depended on him to play his part.

With a groan, Keith threw down his blankets and sat up. He climbed out of bed and dressed for the day. If he got tired, he’d just drink some coffee and keep going until he dropped. It would be the only way he could _actually_ sleep without fretting over Lance and everyone else who depended on him.

When he returned to Lance’s quarters, Allura was there, along with the voices of several others rising up around Lance’s bed like some bizarre, cultish gathering. Keith hesitated at the open doors, and took to standing off to the side as he observed the new face among them.

“I am entrusting Lance’s life with you. Should you do _anything—_ ”

“That would never be my intention,” the woman said, crossing her arms in front of her as if to ward off the thought. “You can trust that I will keep the Prince safe from harm.”

The Empress hardly seemed convinced by the woman’s compliance, and simply turned away with her arms crossed. She caught sight of Keith hovering on the edge of things, and crossed the room to see him as Coran began questioning the strange woman with blonde hair.

“Lance was asking for you earlier—he woke up an hour or so ago,” Allura whispered to Keith as she came to stand beside him.

“Has there been a change in plans?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Allura.

She nodded, and released a disgruntled, grudging sigh. “Yes… Doctor Thace thinks that… if we are able to _bypass_ Lance’s hallucinations, the process might go smoother. He and Coran have hired a _hypnotist_.”

“You don’t seem very fond of the change,” Keith scoffed, and realized that they were mimicking each others stances. He dropped his arms to his sides. “Why?”

“Because the event has to take place without anyone else—otherwise anyone with Miss Nyma and Lance will likely be hypnotized as well. She could, potentially, have Lance do whatever she wants if it _works,_ ” she said, jaw ticking as she glowered at the woman nodding along to everything Coran and Thace said. “We had no intention of letting her in on who Lance was to prevent anything from happening, but now that she knows who he is and who he has access to, she could potentially have him… _gods_ , I don’t even want to think about it.”

Allura pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. “I only hope that this all goes well.”

When the time came for Nyma to put her magic to work, Thace helped Lance sit up without upsetting his stomach. It was during one of the lull times in between episodes that they decided to do this. Lance was pale and sweaty, and was looking at Keith from across the room like the day they first _really_ saw one another—sat on opposite ends of the dining room table, stuck in a staring contest. Only, now it didn’t seem so uncommon for Keith to bridge the gap between them, and take the hand Lance held out to him.

“You’ll be here, right?” Lance said in a whisper, and his breath sounded like crinkling paper.

“No—I’ll just be out in the hall until it’s done,” Keith said. “You’ll see me after.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise,” he said, and gave Lance’s hand another squeeze before giving him up to Nyma.

The session didn’t take any longer than it did with Thace, though instead of a long, drawn out story of what Nyma was getting into, Lance remained quiet upon Keith’s reentry. Keith looked nervously back at Allura, who was charged with staying outside of the room until there was a conclusion to this entire ordeal. Once she saw that Lance was all right, she walked off down the hall, her guards following in her footsteps.

When Keith looked back to the bed, Lance’s eyes were on him, and they were wide. Cheeks pink, pallid skin glistening with sweat. Lance’s hands were fisted in the sheets as Keith glanced at Nyma, who was already leaving with Coran at her elbow.

Someone’s hand slapped on Keith’s back.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan now—not that you didn’t before, but you know what I mean,” Thace said with a laugh, and Keith would have laughed too had they not been interrupted by a feral growl from the bed.

“Hands off,” Lance hissed, about to push himself completely out of the bed until Keith hurried to restrain him. Lance was glaring daggers at Thace, whose alarm faded in a matter of seconds. He took to clasping his hands behind his back while Keith pushed Lance back onto the pillows with a firm order to stay in bed.

“Tell him to leave—I don’t want him here,” Lance demanded, looking sharply at Keith, who let out an amused laugh and looked to Thace for clarification.

“Seems Nyma’s magic worked,” Thace informed them. “I was surprised by Lance’s compliance the past few days—normally nymphs who are freshly in love are possessive of their mates.”

Keith’s jaw dropped, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Lance pulled Keith closer to the bedside, leaning into him so Keith could feel the clamminess of his bare skin and the heat of his fever.

All of the motion had Lance hiccuping in the back of his throat again. Keith kicked over a bucket and picked it up, holding it to Lance’s lap as he doubled over and vomited into it. Keith shuddered at the sound, and wondered how long Lance would have to keep this up before everything in his stomach was gone.

  


. . .

  


At the end of the day, Lance was feeling relatively better and eating again.

He continuously tried to convince Keith that they were both supposed to be on the bed, but Keith refused until the sheets were cleaned and made again. After that, he had no real reason to oppose Lance, and so he wound up reading _Fair Weathered Affairs_ for several hours while Lance laid on his chest and glared at anyone who approached the bed—even Hunk.

“Thace says Lance should be back to normal in a week or so. And by normal… I think he means not… like this…” Hunk said, scratching the side of his head as he made eye contact with the possessive demon that appeared to have taken over Lance’s body and soul.

“It’s fine. I think it’s funny,” Keith admitted, running his hands through Lance’s hair. “I feel like I’m petting a dog.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Lance muttered into his shirt.

“At least we know it’s working. That’s all I’ve got to say,” Hunk said, sharing a genuine smile with Keith.

Lance’s shift in attitude started to fade the more his health improved. His voice was still raspy from spending days throwing up, and eventually, when Thace was allowed near Lance, he determined that Lance would suffer temporary breathing problems while the roots of the issue decayed.

“It’ll take about a month until you’re completely back to normal,” Thace said, and Lance nodded in understanding, busying himself with buttoning his shirt back up. “In the meantime, you can start walking around again without a problem. You’ve given your leg enough of a break as it is.”

Thace left then, and Keith walked back to the bed only to be tackled and pinned to the mattress. Lance’s long legs ensnared him, and his giggling brought a giddy smile to Keith’s face. Lance twisted them so he landed on top, and sat up with his hands pressed firmly to Keith’s chest, keeping him down.

“I want to show you the ocean,” Lance said.

“Do you now?” Keith laughed. “And do what?”

“Go swimming,” he said.

“And?”

Lance leaned in so their smug grins barely touched. “And I want to do this to you on the sand,” he whispered before closing the gap between their mouths in a long, quiet kiss. “And in the water…” he breathed, kissing Keith again until they were out of air to share.

Keith panted against Lance’s lips, pushing himself to his elbows as his chest rose and fell, and he said, “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

Keith had no reason to learn how to swim, but Lance was adamant on teaching him. They threw on swim trunks underneath their clothes and Lance led the way to the kitchen where one of the servants helped them pack a picnic for the trip. Keith carried the basket on the way down while Lance carried towels, and the guards trailed along behind them with a massive blanket tossed over one of their shoulders.

With their free hands, they held on to one another, arms swinging as they descended the hill to the ocean, and passed the tree where Keith hid the night Lance first kissed him.

The ocean began to roar like blood pulsing in Keith’s muffled ears. He squinted at the sun as it glared on the water, and when his eyes adjusted, his shoes started sinking in the hot sand. The breeze was cold on his face, but the sun warmed Keith’s shoulders and hair in a matter of seconds. Lance was absolutely glowing, and his smile was everything Keith could have hoped to see in his lifetime.

“Do you like it?” Lance asked as Keith lowered the basket down.

The ocean did funny things to Keith, and with Lance holding his hand, that was all that tethered him to the world. His body felt light as he took in a deep breath of that salty sea air, closing his eyes along the way. He brought his boot up and tugged it off. The moment his bare foot touched the sand, he felt a shiver course through his veins.

“I love it,” he said, opening his eyes again. “Teach me how to swim?”

Lance was eager to comply, and while they undressed and raced to the water’s edge, the guards set up the cushioned blanket for them and tucked the picnic basket within it.

The water was chilly, but not unbearable, and Keith stood ankle-deep and watched the tides come in. Lance stuck to his side, and Keith smiled as he realized that Lance was doing everything he could to stand between Keith and the handful of guards who accompanied them down here. He looked back at Lance, only to find his boyfriend scowling at the guards and gesturing for them to go somewhere else, but the captain of them shook his head sternly.

Keith laid a hand to Lance’s arm and said, “Relax—if anything they’re staring at you.”

“As if! I’m sure they’re all hot and bothered at the sight of The Most Beautiful Man Alive being shirtless for once,” Lance whined under his breath, kicking his foot at the next oncoming wave. Keith held onto him to prevent them both from falling over.

Keith rolled his eyes at the title. “Lance, come on…”

“I’m serious,” he pouted, shoulders bunching up at his ears. He turned to the side and coughed into his elbow. It was a dry cough that provided them with nothing—not so much as one single petal.

Keith laughed and tipped his head onto Lance’s shoulder as they walked deeper. Their feet touched a slippery, flat rock, and so they stood on there and let the waves lift them up. “You’re ridiculous,” Keith said with a smile, hugging to Lance’s arm.

He gradually grew used to the temperature despite his chattering teeth, but he _certainly_ couldn’t get used to how weightless he felt in the water. Lance grounded him, though, and remained tethered to Keith by their connected hands whenever a wave came in and buffeted them.

They were shoulder-deep despite all of Keith’s protests. He clung to Lance and, to keep his feet from touching the ground, he wrapped his legs around Lance’s waist and shrieked to be brought back to land. Every wave went straight over their heads, and when they resurfaced, Lance was laughing so hard he started coughing up petals again and had to walk back to where they could stand.

The petals were all wilted and dry, unlike the gobs of fresh petals before. Thace said it was a good sign, and so Keith simply soothed Lance by rubbing circles on his back and watched the petals drift with the waves.

“Sorry—Sorry about that,” Lance said, hand still over his mouth.

“Don’t apologize for it,” Keith said. Lance nodded wordlessly. Keith became abruptly aware of how hard he was trying to smile, and so he let it fade, and took to hugging Lance instead. “If anything… I should probably apologize.”

“For what?” he asked.

“I know that this is my fault, regardless of what you and everyone else says,” Keith said, and continued before Lance could argue. “I wish I could fall in love faster. If I could do that for anyone, I’d want it to be with you.”

Lance didn’t say anything. Nyma had told Keith later on that the hypnosis would become benign eventually, but not for another several months—or, perhaps, even _years_ from now. It also meant that whatever Keith said now would confuse Lance, and in his confusion, he stayed quiet and listened to what Keith had to say.

“I know I’m not in love right now, but I will be. I _really_ like you, Lance, and I don’t want you to go through something like this again,” he finished. “Okay?”

“O-Okay, yeah, sure,” Lance said, grinning as he pulled on Keith’s arm and changed the subject. “Now I told you I’d teach you how to swim and so that’s what we’re gonna do!”

“What—! No! No more swimming!” Keith cried, laughing as Lance all but dragged him into the water. Keith could have resisted, but _damn_ was it hard to hold back when everything was about the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly so thrilled by the reception of this. Like, I don't know of many good hanahaki fics and I hope I accomplished my goal of providing one for you guys. 
> 
> And I am literally not kidding when I say **I live for your guys' ideas**. I used to come up with my own ideas before this semester, but my creativity is sapped despite the fact that I can still write nonstop. So **if you have a prompt or something you want to see out there** honestly just shoot me a message or send me an ask or something because **I will likely write it**. It might just be a oneshot or something, but most of my oneshots turn into 20k events. So I mean...
> 
> There's a reason I've been writing the tropes lately, and it's because my brain has just stopped functioning on its own XD
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://girlskylark.tumblr.com/)


	3. { project: curing paranoia }

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's nymphal instincts kick into gear shortly after his recovery, and it sends him into a pit of insecurities. His animalistic protectiveness stems from the fact that Allura's guards are there for constant supervision, but there is little hope in having Lance's privacy-ban lifted, especially when Allura loathes everything to do with Keith.
> 
> It's now Keith's job to figure out how to stop the guards from worsening Lance's paranoia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CHANGED SOMETHING IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS Because initially I planned on Keith, like, training to be a general but then at the last minute I changed it. BUT Keith training as a general works better so... that's all ya gotta know.

“There’s something about your brother that unnerves me. As much as he’s helped with helping Lance… I find it difficult to trust him,” Empress Allura confessed one early morning on the balcony overlooking the ocean. She tied a sash around her waist, keeping the low-cut of her robe together as she glimpsed over at Shiro out of the corner of her eye. She knew he was an early-riser—most people raised like soldiers were—but she never saw him awake at this hour herself. She never had a reason to until now.

He was dressed and nursing a tall mug of tea he made for himself. The teapot was still full, so Allura gestured wordlessly for him to pour her a cup.

“Keith and I are a lot alike whether you know it or not,” he said, and grinned at her as he reached for the teapot. “But you trust me well enough it seems—letting me pour your drink.”

“Sleep in my bed,” she muttered under her breath, looking away as Shiro laughed. She pinched a finger over her lip to keep from smiling with him. It seemed she picked up a lot of her mother’s habits—she never had a distinct husband, but she had _plenty_ of lovers to fill books about them. 

She cleared her throat and took to sitting beside Shiro on one of the cushions. “What makes you say that you two are similar at all?” she asked.

“We both have the same sense of humor,” he said, grinning again. “Our father couldn’t stand us when we were younger. Hence… one of the reasons he sent us into training younger than most children our age. I used to have a temper, but after my first battle I just… lost that edge.”

“Has Keith fought before?”

“In an actual war?” Shiro questioned, and Allura nodded. “Hm, well… not technically. He’s trained for it, and he showed a lot of promise—too much, even. As you know, our military values strategists and skilled fighters above all, and the individual at the top of the class generally never even sees battle. So Keith was an apprentice to a general before we came here.”

“So he’s a talented leader,” she finished, and Shiro gave an uncertain nod. “What makes you so hesitant about this.”

“He’s still rash,” Shiro told her. “If… Lance’s scar is anything to go by. If he’s given time, he has incredible potential. But our father is more familiar with the frontline. He doesn’t understand strategy—that’s what his generals are for. That’s what Keith is for.”

“But you are your father’s favorite,” she said, and the telling silence that followed was filled with the thought of whether or not Shiro was just as rash as he claimed he used to be. 

Shiro glanced up at Allura from his mug before turning away and finishing off his tea. He set his mug down and asked if she’d prefer he stay or leave. Allura was content with watching the sunrise with him, and so she stayed quiet until the sky turned light blue.

“You may go now,” she told him, and so he rose and left. She leaned over to watch him from around the balcony doorframe. _He does have excellent form_ , she commented as he bent over to pick up his coat. She blushed at the sight of her ruffled bed, and his ruffled hair, and promptly turned away to look at the clouds. Little did she know that Shiro was completely aware of Allura’s quiet fascination with him, and left the room with a smile on his face once he was past the scowling guards. 

Seemed he and Keith had a habit of ruining their reputation with the Empress’ security.

 

. . .

 

“Lance—Lance, I have to—go to sleep,” Keith said between persistently ardent kisses outside of Lance’s bedroom door. The guards promptly opened the doors, as if to punctuate how little they wanted to watch this display. 

“ _Aw_ , Keith…” Lance whined, fingers clinging to Keith’s sleeves as he tried desperately to pull Keith into the room.

“I have practice with—” he started, only to be silenced by Lance all but shoving his tongue into Keith’s mouth with bruising force. The attack was effective in pushing down Keith’s defenses, and in a matter of seconds, Lance had him over the threshold, moaning into Lance’s mouth as he gave into yet another wave of Lance’s violent affections.

It certainly wasn’t the first time that Keith was dragged onto Lance’s bed. Keith fell back and panted for the air Lance stole from his lungs, staring up wide-eyed at the demon that took over Lance’s nimble fingers. So… perhaps they _were_ trying their best to avoid what Lance’s instincts meant, but it didn’t stop Keith from entertaining it once in a while when Lance couldn’t hold back, and Keith was pliant enough to agree to it.

Keith tipped his head back with a moan, pushing himself back onto the bed as Lance pulled his pants down. “Lance—seriously—I can’t tonight—” he insisted, but his raspy voice was desperate to make his excuses to Shiro instead along the lines of, “Sorry I didn’t show up to practice —Lance was just too convincing.”

“But—” Lance whined as Keith pushed himself up onto his elbows, and glanced behind Lance to where the guards were grudgingly keeping an eye on them. Lance looked back at them with a frown and said, “Do you really not want to…?”

His confidence shattered suddenly, and it sent Keith up onto his knees to pull Lance towards him and against his chest. “No! I do, I really, _really_ do—it’s just… maybe when your sister’s privacy ban is over? And I really do have practice with Shiro tomorrow, and I can’t—I wouldn’t… I mean…”

“I guess,” Lance sighed, nuzzling his forehead into Keith’s neck. He breathed in deeply before he tensed in Keith’s lap and whispered, “Can you tell them to stop looking?”

Keith looked back at the guards, and _yes_ , one of them _had_ taken their usual post inside the room. Not only was the privacy ban still up, but so was Empress Allura’s unintentional cockblock. Keith glared at the guard and made a shooing motion.

“It’s just…” Lance started quietly as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck. “I just wish… I’ve wanted to do this for _weeks_ …”

“I know .” _Gods_ , did he know. They never got very far, but the span between Lance’s passionate attacks were starting to merge into a day or two apart. The frequency was flattering, if it wasn’t so startling.

“I wish we could just… have a night to ourselves,” Lance whispered, and pulled back a little to see Keith’s face properly. His long, elvish ears were flattened back in distress. “I just… don’t know how… I’ve tried talking Allura out of the guard situation, but she won’t budge,” he said quietly.

Keith blinked at him, and then at their current situation—the guards. _Is Lance asking me to break his sister’s rules?_ he asked himself, and it was promptly followed by the question, _Is it worth it?_

Yes, most definitely.

“I’ll come up with something,” Keith promised. Lance asked for confirmation, looking so incredibly hopeful that the cuteness nearly made Keith’s heart stop. “Of course. Now I actually _really_ have to go, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay,” Lance agreed, and closed his eyes to the kiss Keith left on his lips. Keith laid Lance back against the pillows, and brushed Lance’s hair back from his forehead to press his lips to the soft spot between his tensed brows. Lance relaxed then, letting the pillows and the blankets hold him close when Keith was no longer there.

Keith secured his pants again and left the room. His brother knew just how much Lance’s guards hated Keith, but Keith couldn’t be bothered to follow Shiro’s warnings. “Don’t give them a reason to dislike you,” he had said, but the moment the guards glared at him, he glared right back, and went as far as sticking his tongue out at them. 

Keith turned the corner, thinking, _Serves them right for being rude to me_.

He collapsed on his bed the moment he walked in through the door, and succumbed to sleep so that at dawn, he awoke like the model student he was. Just because he was no longer on his father’s training regimen didn’t mean Shiro would let him start slacking. 

But… Shiro wasn’t there when he showed up for practice.

They didn’t have access to the guards’ quarters, so they made do with combat that didn’t require weapons or targets. Mostly, it involved vigorous cardio workouts, and then strength and combat training. The field of grass they usually met on was empty when Keith showed up, though, and stayed that way for another half hour before he heard Shiro’s panting breaths from behind him.

“Sorry I’m late—I got held up with something,” he said, and reached down to help Keith up to his feet. Keith barely spared a glance at Shiro before he was poking at a purple spot on Shiro’s neck.

Shiro batted Keith’s hand away, shouting, “Ey! Watch it—”

“What, did fall and hit your neck on a branch—”

“We’re done with this—I’m already late as it is—”

“Did you miss your mouth and jab your neck with your toothbrush—”

“ _Keith!_ ” Shiro cried, and deflected another attack from Keith trying to poke at his neck. Shiro tackled him and they ended up tripping and slipping down the grassy hill where Shiro tried shouting above Keith, who was yelling, “Did you run into a light fixture and stab your neck with it?!” All Shiro could say in response to that was, “I hate you— _so much_ right now!”

After their childish antics were over, they took a lap around the palace and the surrounding grounds. They passed the guards’ and servants’ wings along the way, and the followed the path that could be seen from Lance’s balcony. Keith looked up at the railing, and waved the moment he spotted Lance standing out there waiting for him to pass. Lance leaned against the railing and waved back in return, and Keith couldn’t help but notice that each day he jogged by, it seemed like a little bit more of Lance’s skin was showing behind that silky blue robe…

Keith couldn’t entirely understand why _now_ he was so hung up on Lance. He was convinced that there was something in Lance’s nymph blood that made Keith’s hormones go crazy, but no library book could confirm it, and Thace had left long ago and had yet to respond back to Keith’s awkwardly-worded letters. He didn’t trust Lance’s original doctor as much as he did Thace, and Lance insisted it was because Thace was Galran too. 

They used sticks as fake practice swords after strength training. Keith’s muscles were warm beneath his skin from the workout, and drawn taunt from the exertion of fighting off Shiro’s advances. Sweat glazed his skin, and tasted like salt against his lips when he stepped back for a break. He brushed the back of his wrist against his forehead, panting as he tossed the sword aside in favor of tying his hair back. 

“What do you want to try next?” Shiro asked, taking the hint that their crude version of fencing was over. 

Keith laughed. “What, suddenly I get a say in what we do?”

Shiro rolled his eyes and said, “ _Yes_. What do you want to do? This isn’t exactly for me, you know.”

Keith frowned at him. It would have been so easy to just… _give up_ on his training. Living in the Empress’ palace was a _vacation_ , which meant that they didn’t _need_ to keep this up. But… on the off chance that things went south, or that Empress Allura allowed their return home, Keith needed to be in top shape to continue his apprenticeship and aid in returning their home country to its former state. And Shiro… Shiro would no longer be on the field. He served his time and now had to deal with the consequences of being an heir to their father’s throne.

Keith thought about Lance, who _could_ have been in the same exact position as him. As they went back to training, Keith tried to picture Lance as a general, but that image just didn’t stick around long. It didn’t suit Lance, and it didn’t suit his relationship to Allura. Allura was adamant on spoiling Lance rotten, and making sure he had everything he could ever want. It was a surprise to just about everyone Keith knew now that Lance was as humble as he was. It would have been so easy for Lance to give in and demand _more_ , but… somehow he was content with what he had.

“Hey,” Keith started, blocking an upward swing Shiro directed towards him, “I was wondering… if you’ve seen the Empress around at all?”

Shiro hesitated, raising an eyebrow at Keith before shaking his head, “No… not really. Why?”

“Just wondering. I need to ask her about lifting Lance’s security. Lance tried the other day and it didn’t go so well,” he explained. “I’m hoping to maybe… get on her good side? I don’t know. It’s unlikely but it’s the only thing I can think of right now…”

“Why do you need to lift the security?” he asked, and Keith gave him a flat look and went in to jab Shiro’s side. Shiro dodged him, but ended up with a hit to his opposite arm.

Keith twisted his fencing stick and switched hands with a shrug. “Lance is… _really_ starting to get upset by it. Like, the whole jealousy-thing is still going on and it’s almost like he can’t _relax_ whenever we’re together because the guards are always on top of us. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. What about you, though?’

“What do you mean?”

Shiro leant back and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He combed it back and gestured vaguely with his hands as he explained, “I mean, I know this whole security thing is annoying to _Lance_ , but… they _are_ supervising you guys. And I just want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with Lance before you get rid of that barrier.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Keith said, scowling. “Of course I’m comfortable with Lance!”

Shiro lifted his hands in surrender, and Keith turned away, clenching his teeth together, and balling up his fists around his fencing stick. “What makes you think that I _wouldn’t_?” he asked, turning slightly to squint at Shiro.

“I mean, from everything Thace told me about nymphs, it sounds like Lance could be a bit impudent to his partners. I just want to make sure he isn’t pressuring you into anything you aren’t ready for,” Shiro explained, and donned an innocent smile so that glaring made Keith feel guilty. Shiro was just trying to look out for him.

“Lance isn’t like most nymphs,” Keith insisted. “We’re on the same page. You don’t have to worry about me, Shiro. Besides, I’m sure I can handle myself around him. I have so far.”

Shiro watched Keith as he kicked at the grass and spun his stick around to the side, slicing it through the air like a whip. “You’ve been with Lance for a month, Keith. That isn’t enough time to— _Ey!_ ” 

Keith swung his stick towards Shiro’s neck, and when Shiro was taken off guard, Keith poked at the bruise again. “We’ve only been here for _maybe_ three months. Who’d you get so close to?” he asked cheekily, and Shiro turned red and forced Keith back with a swing of his own fencing stick. Keith backed away laughing, and Shiro grumbled to himself about how much of a mistake it was to follow the Empress’ lead. 

That didn’t exactly stop him the next time she sent a servant to him, requesting that he meet her in her room that night. He knew it was dangerous to get close to her, but he didn’t mind the company, and she didn’t seem to mind him as much as he thought she did. That second night they spent together, she wrapped her arms around him and held him to her chest like the nurturer she was. He circled his finger against the soft skin of her lower back, and tipped his head up to look at her.

“What is it?” she asked in a whisper.

“I was just… thinking about something Keith told me,” he said, and just like any other time they talked about Lance’s current love interest, Allura’s interest piqued. “Lance came to him asking about removing the guard supervision. I think he plans on talking to you about it.”

“Lance went to him about this?” she questioned, frowning at him.

“From what Keith said, yes, that seems to be the case. It sounded like Lance is starting to get paranoid from… you know, from his… instincts.” She leant back against the pillows and turned away, drawing her eyebrows together as she thought about this. “I didn’t—I don’t meant to intrude on the matter. It’s just been on my mind since Keith told me.”

“When did he tell you this?” she demanded, but Shiro barely opened his mouth before Allura was pushing herself off the bed and fetching her elaborate silk coverup. The fabric floated off the ground as she stormed for the doors, and left Shiro sitting half-naked on the bed, beside himself with confusion.

Allura’s chambers weren’t all that far from Lance’s, but the walk was long enough for her to pass several servants who leapt in surprise at seeing their Empress up and about at such an hour. Her guards were just as startled, and the few that followed her had to set out at a jog to keep up. 

That night, though, happened to be several days after Keith’s talk with Shiro, and after Shiro unknowingly, but successfully, convinced Keith that Allura would see no reason on this matter. She was too adamant on keeping Lance on a tight leash. Both she and Shiro were convinced that Keith wasn’t seriously considering spending the rest of his life with Lance. After that practice, Lance was already waiting for him at the palace doors, and clung to Keith’s arm for the remainder of the day. The day after was much the same, except the moment they saw Hunk and Pidge in the halls, Lance was practically clawing up into Keith’s arms like a cat, hissing at them to go away. 

As much as Keith loved the affection, he knew that this wasn’t the Lance he fell for a month ago. He was convinced that Lance didn’t _want_ to be this way, especially after the situation with Hunk and Pidge. They were Lance’s best friends, and it seemed like Lance’s love for Keith was tearing them apart.

“I can’t stay the night tonight,” Keith told Lance at the far end of the corridor that would lead to Lance’s bedroom door. If they got any closer, Lance would destroy any and all of Keith’s self-control.

Lance’s expression collapsed, and Keith could see that he was on the brink of tears. Keith pulled him in for a hug, and Lance tried to pull away out of frustration, but Keith held on tight and whispered, “Tomorrow night, okay? I’ll come get you.”

Lance’s breathing hitched, and he held on tight to Keith’s shirt. “Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

So when Allura came storming down Lance’s corridor, and pushed through Lance’s bedroom door, she approached an empty bed. Keith and Lance were already gone through the window—they could be anywhere. 

Allura whirled on the guards, shouting, “Where is he?!” but all the guards were just as surprised as she was. They all shook their heads, and their incompetence had Allura’s face turning red, fists clenched as she yelled, “ _FIND HIM!_ ”

While all the guards scattered, and word spread like wildfire, Keith took Lance by the hand up the stairs of the far wing. The stairwell curved along the pillar of marble bricks, and the moonlight reflected in shimmery spirals beneath their feet with each step. All was quiet at this time of night, and any sleepiness they might have felt was banished by the adrenaline of breaking the rules. Leaving through the window was only part of the struggle—it involved a lot of hesitance on Lance’s part, but eventually he trusted Keith to catch him. It was a messy landing, and they might have fallen, but all their limbs were intact considering they were now approaching the greenhouse doors.

“Okay, you can open your eyes,” Keith said as he pulled the fabric off of Lance’s head. Lance blinked his blue eyes open, and released a shaky breath of excitement as he realized just where, exactly, they were going. “After I dropped you off last night, I asked Hunk if he knew of any good hiding spots,” he said, voice quiet as they walked between the tables of plants, and the deep inlets in the ground where entire trees were planted. 

“The observatory?” Lance asked, and laughed when Keith nodded. “No kidding! I love the observatory. You can see everything from up there.”

“He gave a few other suggestions… but… this one seemed like the best spot,” he confessed, and guided the way to the makeshift wooden ladder that would take them up to the observatory. Lance glanced up at the opening, and realized that beyond the moonlight, there was a faint orange glow flickering up there. It wasn’t until Keith guided him up that he was able to see the full extent of Keith’s planning. 

The observatory was small to begin with, and with the telescope packed away in its heavy wooden box, Keith had made room for a cushioned bed made solely of down feather comforters stolen from various rooms in the palace. A tablecloth was tossed over the telescope case, and on top of it sat a bottle of wine along with a pair of glasses and one gentle candle that cast a glow across the entire room. 

Lance slowly emerged from the ladder, and pushed himself onto the blankets as Keith reached down and pulled the ladder up section-by-section. As he did so, he talked absently about how difficult it was to sneak everything up here without the gardeners looking. “I was surprised no one came up here when I was setting everything up but—”

He looked over at Lance then, and stopped at the sight of moonlit tears dripping from Lance’s eyelashes. “You… did this all for me?” he asked, voice shaking as Keith crawled over and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. 

“Of course. Lance, I _really_ , really like you,” Keith insisted, shaking his head as he laughed, “and I think it’s _really_ kind of shitty of your sister to decide how I feel.”

Lance laughed with him, nuzzling their foreheads together. Keith couldn’t be sure how long they spent staring into each others’ eyes, but eventually, they were kissing, and they were falling back against the cloud of blankets Keith made under the moonlight. 

After the calm passed, Lance made hasty work of pulling their clothes free around the same time Allura hunted Pidge down. She knew Pidge was close to Lance—that was one of the many things Allura employed her for—so she was the first answer to the question, “Who would know where Lance is?” Unfortunately, Pidge was just as surprised to hear that Lance was missing as everyone else was. 

“Have you… checked on Keith?” she offered, and Allura confirmed that she had sent a guard there to check on him. He was missing, too. “Hunk?”

“No, I—” she started, and realized that _yes_ , Hunk was another one of Lance’s close friends. If Lance had planned anything behind her back, he might have trusted Hunk with the information. “Gods, you’re right! Thank you, Pidge,” she cried, turned to send one of her guards off to bring Hunk to her. 

The moment her back was turned, Pidge released a nervous, shaky sigh. Why were all of her friends such idiots? Did they _want_ to get themselves killed?

She chased after the guard Allura sent, and made hasty excuses, saying that she’d make sure that Hunk was taken care of, as he _was_ a friend of Lance’s. The last thing Allura would want was to ruin her relationship with Lance by having the guards do something rash, like _break Hunk’s arm_ (It had happened once before, and Pidge was convinced that some days Hunk felt more like a hostage than an actual friend because of that experience). 

The moment the guard broke into Hunk’s room, Pidge was butting in and shushing Hunk from screaming in alarm. “Don’t worry! It’s just me.”

“ _Pidge!_ I’m not _decent!_ ” Hunk shrieked, but the guard was flinging the blankets off anyways and revealing the fact that Hunk was in nothing but his underwear. “ _Ladies are present!_ ” he hissed at the guard, and kicked viciously when the guard tried to drag him out of the bed. 

“The Empress asked for you,” the guard said, and Hunk turned to Pidge’s guilty expression. “Get dressed,” he demanded, shoving the nearest clothing item at Hunk to put on.

Hunk stared at the man with wide eyes before hurriedly dressing himself and chasing after the guard to keep up the pace. Pidge ran after him, and fell in step with him as Hunk demanded what was going on. Pidge searched around the pockets of her dress and produced her trusty notepad. A lead pencil was stuck in the binding of it, and so she wrote down the dilemma.

_“Do you know where they could be? The Empress is going to ask you_ ,” she wrote at the end, and pointed to it urgently so Hunk could see what the matter was. 

Hunk glanced at the guard, who was walking ahead of them, eyes forward. Hunk knew exactly what the answers were, and if it meant saving Lance and Keith from certain grounding… then he’d have to help Pidge find them first. 

He wrote down a short list of the spots he gave Keith. Pidge took the pad of paper back and read through it before nodding. “Thank you,” she mouthed to him, and he silently wished her luck as she ran off to check the first of the five spots Hunk gave her.

Pidge ran from one end of the palace to the other, passing guards along the way that were barging into each and every room in search of Keith and Lance. She grimaced at the sound of startled residents who had been sleeping in their beds before the guards broke in. She hoped that none of the guards reached the spots Hunk gave her yet—she was familiar with them because she used to find Hunk and Lance hiding away in them whenever they decided to give Allura mini heart attacks from running off without their guards. Thankfully, though, all of them turned up empty the higher she got in the palace.

The last on the list was the observatory. 

_Please be here_ , she begged, shoving through the greenhouse doors and making her way through the maze of tables and separate, misty rooms. 

She looked up through the glass ceiling at the small observatory dome. At this time of night, it would be all pitch black, but now… there was a faint glow of a candle up there. She couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief at the sight, reassured that the idiots were up there.

By the time Pidge approached the spot where the ladder used to be, Lancewas content and curled up beside Keith after everything, and after finishing a glass of wine. He had never felt exhaustion like he did now, where it clung to every part of his being and weighing him down, like he was sinking into a pool of precious dreams and memories. Every night he spent without Keith was riddled with hallucinations of him, keeping him awake with mindless conversations that Lance would forget the moment he found the real Keith the next morning. Every night was spent in anticipation, waiting to see Keith again, wondering what Keith was doing, hoping that tomorrow would be the day Keith would stay the night with him _at last_. 

Keith finished off his glass and set Lance’s aside with his own. Lance stirred away and smiled sleepily up at Keith. “Hey,” Keith said, laughing quietly under his breath as Lance mumbled his greetings back. “Tired?” 

Lance nodded, and hesitated to yawn before saying, “I haven’t been sleeping much at all, really.”

“Really? Did you get medicine for it?” Keith asked, and Lance shook his head. “Why?”

“Because you were always there,” he said quietly, closing his eyes against Keith’s bare chest. Keith was used to Lance talking about his imaginary episodes, but… Lance rarely ever talked about his mind’s version of Keith. At least, not to Keith himself. 

He remembered what Thace said about Lance’s instincts “backfiring.”

“Did I stop you from getting sleep medicine?” he asked, and Lance shook his head. “What was I doing there?”

“We would just… talk all night and I don’t really know what of, but… then I would blink and you would be gone and it’d be morning again,” Lance said. “I like talking to you…”

Keith was quiet for a moment as he held Lance close. He kissed Lance’s hair and said, “I like talking to you too.”

Just as he was about to settle in for an hour or two of sleep, he heard footsteps faintly down below. He tensed, waiting for them to pass, but they stopped immediately beside the ladder opening.

A harsh, “ _Psst!_ ” was hissed up at them, and Keith sighed in relief when he realized that it was just Pidge. He quietly removed Lance’s arms from around him and dressed before walking over to see what Pidge wanted, and how the hell she found them.

“Hey assholes—the entire palace is looking for you guys!” she hissed.

Keith’s eyes went wide, and looked over at where Lance was fast asleep on the blankets that covered his modesty. “How do you know?” he asked, voice hushed.

“Allura went to check on Lance and he wasn’t there— _you_ aren’t where you’re supposed to be, so put two-and-two together… Viola!” Pidge said, gesturing madly at Keith, and the fact that Lance was likely out of sight. “Hunk told me where you guys might be, but he was on his way to Allura so the guards’ll be looking here in no time.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Keith hissed, and quickly backtracked to say, “Thank you for the warning, Pidge—I’ve got it taken care of.”

“You better,” she muttered, walking off with her arms crossed. 

Keith packed away the wine and glasses, bundled up in the table cloth. He nudged Lance awake and helped him dress so that they could pack up all the blankets and shove them down the ladder once it was back in place. When they both hopped down to the ground, Keith caught Lance and steadied him with a smile. Lance tipped into him tiredly, and quietly kissed Keith’s jawline.

“How are you feeling?” Keith asked in a whisper. Lance only smiled. “Good?”

“ _Perfect_ ,” Lance corrected, ending in a yawn. “I’m so _tired_ , though…”

“Let’s get you back to your room,” Keith said, bundling the blankets into his arms as Lance took the wine bag. Together, they headed for the far back exit, and disappeared outside as soon as they found the closest door to the outside gardens. They hid the blankets and the wine behind a collection of bushes, and hid there together until the lantern light from the guards passed. They ran to the spot beneath Lance’s balcony, and just as Lance was about to ask how the hell they were supposed to get up there, Keith was already jumping up onto the nearest windowsill, and climbing up the framing. He leapt up to the next floor, swinging his leg up onto the sill before lunging for Lance’s railing.

Lance’s jaw was on the ground when Keith stuck the landing, hidden behind the balcony curtains. “Do you have any rope?” Keith asked as quietly as he could.

“I—um, I don’t… know?” Lance stammered, still struck by how fluidly Keith scaled the wall. “Use one of the curtains!”

Keith checked to see if the room was clear, and it seemed like all of the guards were elsewhere, looking for Lance. The doors were all open, though, so Keith made quick work of tearing one of the curtains off of the pole. He knotted the end so that Lance could stand on it while Keith did all the heavy work of reeling him up.

Lance grabbed for the railing, and Keith’s arms as he wrapped them around Lance, securing him tight to safety. Lance went limp in Keith’s arms as he allowed himself to be hefted over the railing. “Careful—watch your feet,” Keith warned, and so he took Lance underneath the knees, and around the back, and carried him bridal-style off the balcony. 

Lance giggled as he Keith spun him around before placing him on the bed where he awoke with vigor earlier that night to meet Keith at the balcony. Keith tucked the blankets up, and felt his chest seize up with such delight when Lance said, cheeks pink, “Goodnight—I love you.”

Keith kissed him one last time and said, “Get some sleep— _real_ sleep this time.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let me convince you otherwise.”

“O _kay_ , I won’t let you.”

“Good. Goodnight, Lance,” Keith said, grinning ear-to-ear as he jogged back to the railing and vaulted himself over it. 

 

. . .

 

The early, _early_ that morning, one of the guards found Lance fast asleep in his bed, and so the search was called off. Keith, however, was roused from his sleep by the angrily disappointed face of his brother. Keith feigned innocence, though, and continued to do so even when he accompanied him to the throne room where Empress Allura sat, glaring at everyone who entered. She drummed her sharp nails on the arm of her chair, and stared Keith down as he walked the distance from the door to the first stair to her throne.

Pidge was standing beside her, arms clasped behind her back, and she was giving Keith another one of her warning glares. _As if I’d rat her out_ , he thought to himself, and turned his chin up as Empress Allura spoke.

“Are you aware that last night, Lance went missing?” she asked.

Keith blinked his wide, owlish eyes and shook his head. “Not at all—When Shiro told me I had… I heard nothing of it before. But it seems he’s back though, right?”

He watched her jaw tense, and hoped to the gods that she wouldn’t see through him. The timing was almost too perfect the previous night—Keith nearly got caught by the guards running to his room. The Empress had several guards waiting outside of his room for him, and so he took a different route. He stuck to the garden Pidge toured with Keith and Shiro when they first came. It felt like the entire palace staff was awake now, and it took ages of slinking about for him to find a spot on one of the benches, and sit with a calm, neutral expression until one of the servants came up to him and asked what he was doing.

“I haven’t been sleeping great, and so I take late night walks to tire myself out,” he lied, merging a touch of Lance’s confession with it. Unlike Lance, Keith had been sleeping great. The bed he had here was heavenly compared to the one he was stuck to back in his home country.

“I am well aware of that—I’ve already spoken to the servant who found you,” Empress Allura all but hissed. Her hands clenched on the armrests as she pushed herself up, staring Keith down from the apex of the throne room floor. “You expect me to—”

Her attention lifts to the door as it opens, and hurried steps race across the marble to where Keith and Shiro stood. Keith looked back, and was alarmed to find Lance there, standing no more than a few feet from them. 

“What’s going on here?” Lance demanded. “I woke up and my guards informed me that you all thought I went _missing?_ ”

“That _is_ what happened,” Allura said, marching down the steps. Keith took a subconscious step back, until he was standing between Lance and Shiro. “Where were you? I came to your room and you were _gone_.”

“I was in the _bathroom_ ,” Lance said, enunciating it slowly as if the concept was too difficult for Allura to grasp. He lifted an eyebrow at his sister, who narrowed her eyes. “When I came out no one was around and I went to sleep. End of story.”

Allura’s eyes were cold as the steely color they gave off. She hissed in a sharp undertone, “Let’s assume that you’re telling me the truth. Then what’s this I hear about asking for the guards’ supervision to be lifted?”

Lance groaned, rolling his eyes to where Keith tensed and looked at Shiro, who, like the good soldier he was, remained as impassive as stone. “I know I asked you about it before but it doesn’t _matter_ anymore. I don’t care,” Lance said. 

Keith turned to him then in surprise, and it didn’t exactly take a leap and a jump to come to the conclusion that their worries were set aside for the moment. If Lance was truly feeling the need to protect Keith from the guards’ wandering eyes, then he’d be fighting Allura on the matter right now. 

Keith glanced at Allura, whose anger was replaced with astonishment. “You… don’t mind the guards then?” she asked. She glimpsed over at Keith, who tried his best to look innocent, but most likely failed.

“Well, not any _more—_ ”

“What about your… paranoia?” she asked.

Lance turned pink, hands balled up at his sides. The look of betrayal on his face had Keith’s gut twisting in guilt. “Who _told you_ about that?! You know I don’t like talking about it!” he whined.

“I’d like to know if you’re feeling self-conscious about—!” Allura started, and stopped at the look Lance gave her. She pinched her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “When I spoke to Hunk earlier, he… may have mentioned the fact that you’ve been acting more or less like a spoilt _child_ who doesn’t want to share.”

“So what if I don’t want to share Keith?” Lance cried, voice squeaking. His hand went subconsciously to Keith’s, and Keith took it and gave it a tight, reassuring squeeze. Lance came back to himself in the next moment with a sigh. “I admit… I was being _unreasonable_ , but I’m okay now. And I know the guards are just there for my safety and… I shouldn’t have been acting like… a _spoilt child,_ ” he all but spat the words at her, furious about being called out like this.

Allura didn’t seem phased, though, and merely said, “So you’re okay that I have the guards with you for one more week?” 

Lance looked up from the floor, eyes wide. “What? I mean, yeah, yes, that’s fine,” he stammered, flustered at the thought. Just one more week of semi-captivity. He could stand that. 

“You gave me quite a scare, Lance,” she said sternly, glaring at him as he nodded and promised not to worry her again. She lifted her arms up, and Lance leant into them, letting her envelope him into a hug. 

As they reconciled, Keith turned to Shiro with his arms crossed. He lifted an accusatory eyebrow, and Shiro pursed his lips, looking away from Keith’s barely-concealed fury. Keith mouthed, “You _told her?_ ” once Shiro glanced at him again. Shiro responded with an indifferent shrug.

Allura released Lance from her grasp. He was barely out of arm’s reach when she pegged Keith with another withering stare.

“If I find that you’ve lied to me in any way, I will not hesitate,” she hissed at him. She stopped Lance’s attempt to argue with a swift, “No matter the consequences.”

She turned and walked towards the back of the throne room. Pidge followed after her with wide, shocked eyes. Lance, Keith, and Shiro stared after her before Lance forcefully took Keith by the hand and dragged him off. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered under his breath. Keith stumbled after him, and didn’t bother looking back at his brother as he stood in the growing chasm between Keith and Empress Allura.

Every part of this contributed to the increasing doubt growing deep within Shiro’s chest. Nothing about his life had ever been simple, and now…

And now Lance was seeing butterflies. He was breathing in the ocean air and seeing sunlight in the dark. He saw the glow on Hunk’s cheeks like glitter and sparkles, like freckles of starlight on his dark brown skin. He hugged the warmth of his best friend as he cried, “I’m sorry I abandoned you! I was so mean!” 

His tears dripped onto Hunk’s shoulder, and they rooted there and sprouted into leaves that tickled Hunk’s ears as he said, “It’s okay, I figured something was up. I’m glad you’re back to normal, though.”

Lance laughed and sniffed, pushing away the tears so he could smile and look Hunk in the eyes. “I guess I should apologize for the fact that you had to deal with Allura,” Lance said quietly, guiltily.

Hunk whistled low and said, “Yeah, that was… that wasn’t fun. But you know what? Whatever happened was for the best, because you’re you again and that’s all that matters. Did you apologize to Pidge yet?”

Lance turned away groaning, and would have continued sulking about how much he _didn’t_ want to apologize more and more to Pidge, but he was suddenly distracted by the fact that Keith looked just as beautiful as he did the previous night in the observatory. His milky white skin shimmered with stardust, and created a halo that the butterflies flocked to. He was off wandering the corridor that faced the ocean breeze, and the looked just as Lance thought it impolite for him to keep staring. 

He turned away, his sharp ears turning red.

“I’ll apologize to Pidge later…” Lance murmured, and glanced back at Hunk with a giddy grin. “Can we hang out sometime tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, clutching his hands together in anticipation. 

And of course Hunk didn’t let him down. They agreed to a picnic the following afternoon—just the two of them. Shortly after, Hunk had to leave to visit his parents, and so Lance followed him off of the stone ledge they sat on. He waved Hunk off with a childish, “Goodbye! Love you!” which Hunk responded with by saluting him and laughing, “Love you too, buddy!” 

Lance threw his head back laughing, and turned to find Keith, but realized promptly that Keith was nowhere in sight.

Lance was used to the brief moment of panic when he was out of Keith’s sight. It was just habit now, especially after realizing that every moment he spent without Keith, his mind was occupied by hallucinations of him. But… after a deep breath, Lance was relieved to find that he was alone, and that the world existed of one Keith, and no other. 

He started down the corridor, following the fluttering purple wings of the butterflies as they glistened in the sunlight, and ducked behind the pillars and around the ivy vines that sprouted out the windows, and began to spiral around the columns. Lance turned his eyes up to where the leaves were crawling over his head, and following him in a flourish of violet morning glory blossoms. He realized quickly that they were leading the way, and they were directing him towards one of the stone ledges between the columns where Keith was sitting along the edge, feet dangling just above the garden bushes. 

Lance reached over and wrapped his arms around Keith’s torso. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, kissing the soft curve of Keith’s neck.

“I’m just sitting here,” Keith laughed. “What more do you want from me?”

“Nothing—you just look perfect all of the time,” Lance said, and leant back so that he could maneuver up onto the ledge beside him. Keith tucked his chin against his shoulder, watching Lance through half-lidded eyes.

“Yeah, well, all of the time it feels like you deserve my title more than I do,” he said at last, and grinned cheekily as Lance tipped his head in confusion. “Most Beautiful Man Alive…” Keith finished, and laughed when Lance nudged him, ears turning pink all over again.

They leant against one another and watched the ocean down below, and where it merged with the sky far off on the nonexistent horizon. Keith put his arm around Lance and sighed, saying, “I want to go to the ocean again. I want to collect sea shells and sea glass.”

“Then we’ll go to the ocean and collect sea shells and sea glass.”

“Yes… but I don’t want to do it here,” Keith confessed. He pressed his cheek to Lance’s hair and frowned. “I know it’s ridiculous and… your sister treats us well considering Shiro and I are both hostages for my father’s loyalty or whatever… but sometimes I get stir crazy being in the same place all the time.”

Lance murmured his agreement. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out to the city. It wasn’t easy for him to walk around in public, and there was no way Allura would allow it. Despite how successful her reign had been, there were still enemies everywhere, around every corner. As children, Coran instilled this fear in Allura, who instilled it in Lance, and so she was adamant that he never leave, and he was content to stay safe on the palace grounds.

“Your ocean is so beautiful… I wonder what other shores look like,” Keith confessed.

“You really think it’s beautiful?” Lance asked, and somehow the question felt personal to him. Perhaps it was the childish theory he and his sister concocted that made him associate his ocean to his heritage.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Keith said, and promptly backtracked. “Well, I mean, I’m not sure how much my opinion counts because this is the first ocean I have ever seen…”

Lance fell quiet, his thoughts pulling memories to the forefront. Allura used to take him on her journeys overseas to visit the far off lands that swore their allegiance to her. At least, she used to, until the horrific assassination attempt that led her to ban Lance from ever traveling with her again. “I could never risk your life over _foolish_ extremists,” she would tell him whenever he begged and whined to come with her.

But before anything happened, Lance was well-traveled and familiar with every coast that Allura conquered bordering their ocean. He could see the rocky white shorelines now, with monstrous cliffs and archways across the ocean… He could see Keith standing in the teal water, hair slicked back and damp from swimming…

“You would love the Arusian coast,” he concluded. “All of the sand is pure white, and the cliffs are _beautiful_.”

“You’ve been to Arus?” Keith asked, and so Lance explained the trip he once took across the sea, years after Arus was sheltered by Allura’s rule. Allura was there for political business with Coran, and so Lance was left to his own devices, escorted by one of the ambassador’s sons… who… Well, Lance left those details out of the story he shared with Keith. Yet another instance where Lance’s nymphal instincts got in the way of rational thought.

“I’d love to go to Arus with you. You could be my tour guide,” Keith said, settling back against stone pillar so that Lance could lean back against his chest, resting between Keith’s legs.

Lance laughed nervously, realizing that he would make an _awful_ tour guide considering he couldn’t remember a lick of where they’d been or how they’d gotten there when he was back in Arus. He was too busy falling head-over-heels for his _own_ tour guide.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to travel together?” Keith asked, the sunlight dappling through the imaginary leaves over their heads. A flower bloomed beside Keith’s head as Lance tipped his head back against Keith’s shoulder. “Would your sister allow that?”

“I don’t think so,” Lance confessed. “I wish we could, though.”

Keith smiled and leant to either side to look up and down the corridor. Afterwards, he whispered, “What do you think the chances are that we could sneak out and travel the globe without Allura noticing?”

Lance shouted in surprise and dissolved into giggles, and couldn’t respond for a solid minute before gasping out, “ _What?_ We couldn’t—!”

“ _Think about it!_ I bet we could—we’d just have to… really plan it out,” Keith said, and lifted a hand up to his mouth to nibble on his thumbnail. The sunlight shimmered on his skin like light reflecting on water. “I mean, would you want to? Hypothetically speaking?”

“Um… _Yeah_ , is that even a _question?_ ” Lance laughed. “But my sister would lose her _mind_ if I went missing again. You remember how she was when we… you know…”

“Well, it wouldn’t be _now_ , it’s just… be far in the future,” Keith said. “I’d take the risk.”

“I wouldn’t want to take the risk _for_ you. In case you forgot, Allura’s threatened to hang you a handful of times and I wouldn’t put it past her to do so if we up and left like that,” Lance said, and attempted to count the number of threats she made on his fingers. 

“Tell you what—I’ll think on it, and get back to you, okay? Make a list of places you want to go to.”

“Okay, but it’ll be a list of places I want _you_ to see. Because that’s more important, you uncultured child,” Lance said, and took Keith’s hand from where he had it pressed to his teeth. Lance kissed it and laid it over his heart. 

“Okay, that sounds good to me.”

So the following day, when Hunk and Lance went off on their picnic, Keith found himself in the library staring at the maps of the world. For now, it was just a fantasy, but someday he hoped it wouldn’t have to be anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [DONOVAN](https://loverboy-lancemcclain.tumblr.com/) FOUND [THE POST THIS ENTIRE FIC IS BASED OFF OF](https://78.media.tumblr.com/e911a0b550b569b6aae70b70b563ea03/tumblr_messaging_p03121TBpq1ta7i6c_250.jpg) AND CALLED ME OUT. And so I was inspired to write more because I have NO SELF CONTROL.
> 
> I realize that these chapters are more like episodes in a show because they all have their own story arcs and such. THAT SAID ?? I have, like, 3 more SOLID episode ideas and they work really well in that context. IDK if I'll write them all straight away because finals are about to smack me in the face, but we'll see.
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr :D](http://girlskylark.tumblr.com/) | [A survey for readers to influence my future works :D](https://girlskylark.typeform.com/to/zkiD8u)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :D I really love this AU so I might make more, but for now, this works well as just a one shot :)
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://girlskylark.tumblr.com/)


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